


Dudley Dursley and the Educational Decree

by InsaneSociopath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus is still manipulative, Alternate Universe - Canon, Characters of Colour, Gen, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Hufflepuff, In this house we say fuck u JK, No character bashing, Remus Lives, Squibs, Squibs at Hogwarts, Trans Character, and then fix her shit, but also displays some common sense and basic decency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29294130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneSociopath/pseuds/InsaneSociopath
Summary: Summer has just started and Dudley Dursley is about to turn 11 years old. And for as long as he can remember, he's known that his cousin is a wizard. There's not a magical bone in his own body and he'll never own or use a wand, but in three months timebothof them will be sitting in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, ready to learn all about magic.Dudley's joining the prestigious magic-adjacent course, and his favourite part is how much his parents loathe the idea with every fibre of their being.
Relationships: Dudley Dursley & Harry Potter
Comments: 41
Kudos: 88





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled "fixing JK's shit, one paragraph at a time"
> 
> In this house we:  
> \- Drink our respecting women juice  
> \- Raise a glass to our trans siblings  
> \- Avoid doing dodgy shit with AIDs metaphors and don't bury our gays  
> \- Don't condone bullying, especially not of children??? Wtf Snape???  
> \- Don't bash characters because we are adults  
> \- Attempt to sort out whatever the hell is going on with Dumbledore. Christ.   
> \- Just generally try to have decent ethics and morals?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: Author is dyslexic! Occasional typos be scattered about on the road ahead!

It had begun, as such things often do, with a knock upon the front door.

In another universe (or perhaps another reality entirely), the knock had not happened. Instead a wicker basket containing a bundle of blankets, a handwritten letter, and a toddler of almost precisely fifteen months had been left on the doorstep. A baby, left to be found along with the morning post. 

But in _this_ universe the young boy was instead being cradled carefully against the chest of a most extraordinary man. And the man had knocked. 

The inhabitants of the house to which the door belonged had been woken by the persistent noise, echoing dully all throughout their bedrooms despite somehow being muffled to the entire outside world. The adults of said house had stomped angrily down the stairs, their own toddler shrieking shrilly from the landing, and they had wrenched the door open with distaste and dislike already thickening in their hearts and on their tongues. 

And then the extraordinary man with his tall pointy purple hat and his long white flowing beard had greeted them with an entirely too pleasant and cheerful _good evening!_

Really exceptionally too cheerful given that it had been just passed three in the morning.

* * *

It had continued with a conversation. 

In another universe Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

In this one Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that all their neighbours, associates, and colleagues believed the outrageous _lie_ that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They went to a great deal of effort to ensure the lie was believed at all times.

They very much would have preferred not to have to lie and simply have it be true, but when one is cowed into compliance and has those… _freaky_ magic types invading one’s home every single weekend? Well reputations have to be maintained somehow. 

So.

It had continued with a conversation. 

The extraordinary man had introduced himself as Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbldore, who, amongst other gastly sounding things, was headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mr Vernon Dursley, perfectly ordinary homeowner of number four, would have been quiet happy to have never have been introduced at all and said as much very loudly. Despite the front door still being wide open. 

His wife, Mrs Petunia Dursley, had gone even paler upon hearing the man’s name (having already gone rather pale upon seeing an obvious wizard on her doorstep) and had rather rudely reached out, grasped his overly-voluminous robes somewhere in the region of his chest, and hauled him into the hallway with the door banging shut behind him. She did not, after all, want her husband’s shouting to wake the nosy neighbours and risk them _seeing_ the horrible freaky man. Regardless of how valid and understandable her husband's shouting was. 

The thought of such gossip circulating about her was positively revolting.

* * *

(Albus had rather graciously not complained that her grip had contained rather more beard than robe)

* * *

Once securely shut inside away from prying eyes, the conversation had finally begun. Much to Albus’ relief. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Petunia had hissed violently. “You are well aware that I refuse to to be in any way involved with _your_ unnatural type!”

“You know this- this man!?” Vernon had gasped, horrified.

“Indeed, your wife and I have met,” Albus had nodded knowingly, the toddler still sleeping blissfully unaware on his shoulder. “Her sister Lily was a student at my school for seven years, and a good friend thereafter. A most remarkable and brilliant young witch. Unfortunately I come with unhappy news. Might I suggest we retire to your kitchens? I feel a sturdy seat and good strong cup of tea is in order.”

Albus hadn’t waited for an agreement and had simply strode off in what he had been fairly sure was the correct direction. 

It had taken several minutes for the two muggles to follow him, and in the meantime he had availed himself of their kitchen facilities, filling three mugs he’d discovered on the draining board with cold water from the tap and then heating them with a practised wave of his wand.

He had successfully sliced and transfigured a sorry-looking apple into three piles of tea leaves by the time the clearly displeased couple had slid nervously into the room, young Dudley Dursley still hiccuping unhappily in his mother’s arms. Vernon’s eyes had just about bugged out of his head when Albus had levitated each pile of leaves into their respective mugs, before the expression of surprise had morphed into one of disgust and loathing.

“Please do be seated,” he had gestured to the other chairs at the kitchen table. “It’s about your sister.”

There had been a lot of hesitancy, but they had eventually done so. Albus had sipped his tea and wished he’d had the foresight to save some apple to transfigure into lemon juice. Tea was always better with a splash of lemon.

“I regret to inform you Mrs Dursley, but this evening your sister and her husband were attacked and lost their lives in defence of young Harry here. A dark wizard and known murderer broke into their home shortly before midnight. While it is clear that they put up a great fight and took the intruder down with them, their young son is now unfortunately an orphan.”

“I’m not surprised they’re dead, given their disgusting predilections,” Vernon had eventually harrumphed once the silence had ticked on just slightly too long, crossing his arms across his pudgy chest. “Leading unnatural lives leads to unnatural deaths.”

“You were already aware then,” Albus had continued on, choosing to ignore the bigotry for now. “Of the magical world and culture?”

“My sister insisted on bringing her husband and equally vile friends to visit shortly after her runt was born,” Petunia had sniffed. “I tried to conceal their unpleasantness as is correct to do so, but Lily _once again_ ran roughshod over common decency and Vernon was exposed to their nastiness. I ensured a repeat visit would never be made, but the damage was done.”

“I see,” Albus had sighed, silently acknowledging that Minerva’s fears were indeed very well founded. “But I am afraid I must burden you with further ill news. This, as you have no doubt surmised by now,” he’d continued, rubbing a fond hand down the back of the boy still sleeping atop him, supported easily with one loose arm, “is your sister’s son, Harry James Potter.”

“We are _not_ taking him!” Petunia had shrieked, having correctly guessing his next line and launched to her feet to back away from the table despite Dudley’s protestations at the sudden movement.

“I’m afraid that you and I have very little choice in the matter,” Albus had informed her darkly, scowling his own displeasure. “Your sister willingly gave her life to save Harry, and in doing so invoked some very ancient protective blood magic.”

“We are _not_ taking him!” Vernon had repeated rather loudly.

“The place that Harry calls home must be with a direct blood member of family,” Albus had glared, not bothering to hide how distasteful the idea was to him too, letting a little bit of his magic’s displeasure creep into his voice. These muggles were the worst sort of _people,_ entirely independent of their lack of magic. “The choice must be made. Harry stays with you. Or we take Dudley and make a home elsewhere.”

Petunia had then taken on the complexion of one of the Hogwarts ghosts and backed up against the kitchen wall, clasping her son tight enough against herself to cause the boy to whine and complain. 

“You dare threaten my wife and son,” Vernon had roared, slamming to his own feet and knocking his chair over backwards.

“It is not a threat,” Albus had spoken plainly. “It is simply what will happen if you do not take your nephew in. There is blood magic not of my own making at play here.”

Silence would then have fallen completely, if not for Dudley bursting loudly into tears. Petunia’s lip had wobbled as though she had been holding back her own tears, and she’d given her husband a single shaky nod before rushing out of the room. 

An upstairs door had slammed shut a moment later, Harry’s cousin’s cries becoming muffled.

“This is blackmail. Extortion!” Vernon had sneered, his face increasingly puce coloured. 

“This is a necessary evil,” Albus had sighed, resigned. “I like it no more than you do. Less so in fact. And to that end, I shall be taking several precautions that you will not interfere with. I will not abandon Harry to grow in this unhealthy environment alone, and so some changes will be made to your household. 

A thought occurred to him then.

“And perhaps some changes to the wixen world as a whole, if I have my way.”

Vernan had spluttered, but Albus had simply continued talking calmly over him.

“Yes, I think that will do nicely,” he had hummed, pondering the idea. “It was jealously and rejection that led to your wife’s hatred and bigotry developing. And many old traditions are now in question thanks to Tom’s murderous rampaging. What is the muggle saying? Strike while the iron is hot? Yes indeed.”

“I will not have your people meddling with our lives! That is a line you will not cross!” Vernon had demanded. “If we are taking the boy, then you freaks shall stay away!”

Albus had stood slowly, raising his mug with him and taking another long sip of the hot liquid. 

“I trust you to relay the most pertinent details to your wife,” he had raised one eyebrow. “I shall be returning in a few days with assistance and further information, but I shall share with you the basics now. One. Harry is not to be harmed. You will treat him with the same care and consideration you do your own son. Two. A colleague of mine will visiting for several hours _every_ weekend from now until he begins his magical schooling to ensure Harry’s well being, as well as to introduce him to the basics of wixen life and society. Three. I shall be visiting myself regularly with no predictability and no forewarning to doubly ensure you do not mistreat young Mr Potter. Four, you shall inform no-one outside of this household of these arrangements. And finally, five. A large part of your family’s hatred stems from your us vs them mentality. I shall be eliminating it. You are all _us_ now; your Dudley will be attending Hogwarts too, as a part of a new course I shall be setting up. By the time Harry and Dudley come of school age, it should be well embedded into the school curriculum.”

Vernon Dursley had gaped like a stupefied grindylow.

“Mr Dursley, your wife now hates magic because she was not allowed to enter the magical world with her sister when she was a young girl. I cannot make amends for her being ostracised then, but I can prevent it for other people going forward. After all, one does not need a wand to brew potions, chart the stars, or fly a broom.”

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbldore had then quickly left number four, Privet drive with a small smile on his face. It had been a truly horrible night, but at that point it had perhaps begun looking slightly up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains: a racial slur and the throwing of frozen peas

Dudley’s birthday fell on the 23rd of June this year, just like it did every year. That is, after all, how birthdays work.

But this year? This year was extra special. This year Dudley was _finally_ turning eleven. Eleven was the best age to turn when you were in on the family secret. Eleven is when you were finally old enough to go to magic school with your tiny wizard cousin. 

Even if you were not magical yourself.

Dudley had always just known that Harry was a wizard. For as long as he could remember, he’d known. It was something that he and Harry whispered about under one of their duvets late at night when they were supposed to be sleeping. It was something that his mum and dad hissed about in corners with displeased expressions. It was something he was absolutely forbidden from talking about unless he and Harry were alone (or if it was to another wixen, a word which he still thought sounded ridiculous and funny). They were not to talk to mum and dad about magic, they were not to tell any of their friends or teachers about it, and they _certainly_ weren’t allowed to ever take any magical items out of the house. 

Actually, those weren’t allowed out of his and Harry’s rooms at all, except on Saturdays when Professor Minerva would come to give them magic lessons. 

Number four, Privet Drive had proved to be a very strange house to grow up in. 

It was especially strange because he knew his parents hated magic and everything to do with it. It was just another one of those things he knew and always had. The sky is blue, the sun rises everyday, and mum and dad hate magic. He had always wondered why they let he and Harry learn about it when they thought it was horrid. But learn about it they did.

Dudley himself found magic hard to hate though. Maybe he once had, when he listened to his parents more and took everything they said as gospel truth just as small children should do. But Vernon and Petunia Dursley hadn’t been the sole adult influence in his childhood, and he’d stopped believing them unwaveringly as soon as he’d realised that sometimes, other people’s ideas made more sense.

(Or more accurately, when he realised that he could get other people to give him what he wanted even when his mum and dad said no… And what he wanted was often moving photos, shiny golden snitches, and magically replicating frogspawn that he could shove into the desks of unsuspecting primary school teachers when they weren’t looking. So they said no a lot.)

* * *

Dudley’s birthday fell on the 23rd of June this year, just like it did every year.

He did not receive thirty-six presents. Nor did he receive thirty-seven. Rather, he was gifted a modest nine while professor McGonagall sipped amber liquid from a very shiny glass she had conjured from somewhere and alternated between beaming at him and scowling at his dad. 

Professor Minerva McGonagall was a very stern woman who brooked no nonsense. She was also a very stern woman who included prejudice against magic in her definition of nonsense. 

As Dudley grew older, he was increasingly aware that his parents were therefore considered to be nonsense. This, he now thought, was very amusing indeed. 

He hadn’t always thought it funny. Initially he had been very much outraged to realise that some people did not think that Vernon and Petunia were the pinnacle of all that was correct in the world and did not think that their every opinion should be written as law. Again, young children are supposed to think that of their parents and Dudley had. 

Having professor McGonagall in his life had eventually (and inevitably) changed that. Now, Dudley was very much aware that his parents were not always correct and were in fact capable of being rather very nonsensical indeed. 

This is why, when informed that evening (after the professor had turned into a cat and gone… well, home presumably) by said parents that his cousin Harry was _not_ going to be accompanying them on his birthday trip to the zoo the next day, Dudley promptly went to stand in front of the TV his father was trying to watch the evening news on and decided to throw what most adults would call under their breath an utter raging bitch fit of a temper tantrum. 

“Muuuuuuuum, it’s not faaaaaaair!” he screeched, deliberately pitching his voice as high as could as he was well aware that the tone usually got him what he wanted faster than not doing so. “It’s my birthday so I should get what I want! And I want Harry to come too!”

“Diddykins darling really,” his mum tried placating while he jumped up and down extra hard a couple of times for good measure. “Don’t you want to a have a special day all to yourself?”

“It’ll be more special with Harry!” he yelled mulishly, kicking the coffee table hard enough to cause the Radio Times magazine to fall off and the plate of chocolate digestives to rattle dangerously close to the edge. 

“Dudley!” his dad protested angrily as he hastily nudged the biscuits back away from the danger zone. 

“It’s true!” Dudley yelled back. “You just hate Harry! You’re magic hating bigots!”

Professor McGonagall had taught him the word and its meaning shortly after his ninth birthday, and he’d taken to using it all possible opportunities with great relish. Mr Hardings at school was a bigot for hating Ellie’s two mums. His best mate Piers’ dad was a bigot for always calling Harry a _dirty little Paki._ Dudley’s parents were bigots for hating people with two mums, people with interesting skin colours or cool accents, and people who could do magic.

Once upon a time Dudley had thoroughly enjoyed being mean to whoever he could. He had now discovered that only being mean to people who were horrible to other people was not only just as fun, but also made you feel very good about yourself. 

Dudley liked feeling good about himself. And so he liked making people feel bad for being bad.

“Don’t use that word young man!” his mum scolded him with a pinched expression.

“Why not, it’s what you are! You’re horrible bigots and you’re _ruining_ my birthday!”

“Dudley David Dursley!”

“I WANT HARRY TO COME TO THE ZOO WITH ME!”

“IF YOU DO NOT STOP YELLING, YOU WON’T BE GOING EITHER!” his dad shouted back.

“IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR, I HATE YOU!” 

And with that, Dudley kicked the coffee table again (making sure the plate actually fell off this time) and stomped out of the room with a long and loud wordless shriek of rage.

* * *

Sure in the belief that they would give in to his demand by the morning, Dudley grinned to himself as he barrelled noisily up the stairs and then barged into Harry’s room without knocking.

“Duds!” Harry snapped from his small rickety desk, clearly annoyed at the intrusion. 

“I yelled at them so now you’ll get to come!” he beamed as he ignored Harry’s glare and flopped backwards onto his cousin’s bed. The bedsheets had little flying dragons on them, all blue and bronze and shiny, with wings that flapped soundless as they moved slowly across the material. 

Dudley had a matching set in red and silver and took great pleasure in how much his mum hated them. 

(Hated them so much in fact, that they only ever got cleaned on the rare occasions that Mr Albus did their washing for them with magic. Which was not very often at all and meant that he and Harry had to have boring muggle bedding most of the time.)

“Yes, the entire street heard you screaming,” Harry replied dryly. He sounded just like Professor McGonagall when he talked like that. 

“Good,” Dudley huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

It _was_ good. Dudley knew that for a fact. The threat of the neighbours overhearing often lead to his parents giving in rather quickly just to shut him up; the less yelling there was about magic, the less likely anyone would hear about it and ruin their “precious reputation”. 

“You won’t think it’s good when you end up grounded again.”

“They’re not going to ground me on my _birthday,”_ he scoffed back. “Besides what are they gonna do? Send me to my room? Oh no, how will I cope.”

The two of them smirked at each other knowingly; it’s where they each spent most of their time anyway. Although Dudley probably _would_ miss going down to the park with his mates to kick a footy about or chase bullies around. Nothing quite like throwing a bigot in the duck pond. 

“What are you writin’ anyway?” he yawned a moment later, happily thinking about the time he and Piers pelted Jamie Gibb with frozen peas for saying Abel Drucker looked like a goblin.

“Doing McGonagall’s homework that she gave us this afternoon,” Harry shrugged as he continued scribbling away.

“Nerd,” Dudley snorted. “Not due ‘til next weekend _and_ we’re on summer holiday.”

“S’about wandlore, you doofus,” Harry muttered, “We finally get to go to Diagon Alley for the first time next week and get our Hogwarts stuff. _Including_ our wands.”

“I knoooow, I can’t wait” Dudley grinned. “But we still got all week to read the stupid book. Come oooon, I wanna go play on my new Playstation again! You know I made dad get me two controllers!”

“Lemme finish this diagram.”

“But I got Destruction Derby 2! Car crashes Harry! Smashing into each other as you race!”

“Ugh, just go downstairs and get us some more birthday cake. I’ll be done when you come back.”

“Fine, but I’m bringing you a smaller piece than mine.”

* * *

Dudley was of decidedly average height for a (newly) eleven year old. Harry was slightly smaller, but then he always had been no matter how many nutrient and healthy-growth potions McGonagall tried to (and often succeeded to) feed him. 

But. 

No matter what the reality, Dudley’s love of cake, chocolate and sweets would always remain a constant. He therefore was _not_ of decidedly average weight.

This had several advantages. 

Harry being, as aforementioned, of rather small stature meant that he had always been a prime target for those inclined to bullying. Once upon a time, Dudley had taken advantage of this fact himself, merrily chasing his tiny cousin around the playgrounds of St. Grogory’s primary school for far longer than he should have been allowed to. Harry-hunting had been a top notch game that had regularly ended in tears and manhandling. 

It was no longer once upon a time and Dudley no longer took advantage. 

But other children often attempted to. Attempt being the operative word here, as Dudley had no compunction against slamming a meaty fist into the teeth of Harry’s would-be tormentors. Once battered to the floor once, these children (and occasional teenagers) seldom came back to try again. 

Being able to _throw hands_ with anyone he could label a bully or bigot was the first advantage.

The second was that it lead to almost everyone who met him seriously underestimating both his intelligence and his sneakiness. 

Harry was still much faster and more nimble than he would ever be, but he wasn’t the great lumbering brute that most people assumed he was. He could more than hold his own in footy and didn’t get left behind in PE lessons, panting and out of breath. Being considerably less inclined to quote-unquote _be a little shit_ during lessons and considerably _more_ likely to do his homework _himself_ meant that he’d learnt quite a bit more at school than he perhaps would have done otherwise. 

The third advantage was the one he used during the afternoon of the 24th of June at BCA zoo near Maidenhead.

* * *

“Told you they’d let you come,” Dudley smirked as he and Harry waved their tickets at the woman inspecting them at the entrance turnstiles. 

“Only because Mrs Figg broke her leg last night,” Harry rolled his eyes as he pushed through the metal gate first. Dudley knew Harry was correct, but still. He could pretend it had been his influence.

“I would have gone with you to Mrs Figg’s instead if they’d still said no,” he offered. “I wouldn’t even have complained about all the weird cats or the cabbage smell.”

“Most of them are kneazles, not cats Duds.”

“Same thing innit. ‘Sides, McGonagall said they’re mixed-breeds.”

“Shhhh, Uncle Vernon’s coming!”

This time it was Dudley who rolled his eyes. Harry was still too scared of his mum and dad by half. They only had another two months before they were finally leaving for boarding school and Mr Albus had been round loads lately, so what were they gonna do? Lock him the cupboard under the stairs? They wouldn’t dare in case they got caught again.

“DAD!” he screeched before the man in question could demand to know what they’d been whispering about; if Harry wanted to be a scaredy cat, so be it. “Dad, I want ice-cream and then I wonna go see the tigers!”

* * *

They did indeed go visit the tiger enclosure. And the giraffes and rhinos and a whole bunch of bright pink flamingoes. And then a polar bear, a very happy group of seals that were being fed fish, and a whole bunch of tiny penguins. Dudley had always thought penguins would be bigger. 

“They’re as small as you look,” he ribbed, pushing Harry’s head sideways lightly with a laugh. 

“Shut up!” Harry groaned, slapping him playfully back. “You look like that gorilla. The big one that kept scratching it’s butt.”

“Boy!” Dudley’s dad shouted indignantly from where he was sat on the bench behind them. “Don’t you dare lay your hands on my son!”

Dudley and Harry exchanged a wide-eyed look and silently decided to run away before there was even more shouting.

* * *

After successfully throwing another dramatic temper tantrum at lunch time so that Harry also got a knickerbocker glory, they wandered as a group into the reptile house. Which is where everything went to hell and Dudley had to use the third advantage of being large.

* * *

“Maybe we can wake him up?” said Dudley.

“Hssssssss,” said Harry.

“Hssss,” said the snake back as it lazily came awake.

“Hssssssssssss,” said Harry again.

“Um?” said Dudley.

“Hssss,” said the snake, nodding at the name plaque on the wall. 

“Hsss hssssss,” said Harry.

And then the glass disappeared and the great big boa constrictor slithered down Dudley’s legs.

There was lots of screaming.

* * *

The third advantage of being bigger than most other children, is that when you’re stuck in a (albeit small) stampeding crowd and trying to run away while dragging your idiot little cousin with you, you’re much harder to knock over and trample. 

“Mummy and dad are going to kill you,” he moaned as they shoved their way between a sobbing teenager and a young mother with a double pram swearing up a storm. “They’re going to burn all our potions ingredients and throw out the floo powder box and then bury you at the bottom of the garden.”

“I didn’t mean to! The glass just vanished!”

“Yes I know, accidental magic. But did you have to talk to the snake!?”

“It was speaking English and being polite! I’m not rude!”

“You were hissing at it!”

“Dudders! Dudley-dudlykins!” his mother was shouting in a panicked voice from somewhere near by. Dudley groaned again and was once again glad that he wasn’t actually magical himself.

Because accidental magic was birthday-ruining bullshit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S'up my homos, yo ho.

Despite living so close to the city, Dudley had only ever been into central London twice before today.

Once, as an invitee to Piers’ tenth birthday party, which had taken place at the London Aquarium near Westminster bridge. Despite Dudley’s pleading, Harry had not been allowed to accompany him, on account of Piers’ father being a total and utter arsehole. 

And once with Professor McGonagall, who had insisted on taking both boys on a muggle outing to make up for the fact that Harry hadn’t gotten to go with him the week previous. Dudley’s mum and dad hadn’t been particularly cooperative, but had eventually been overruled and so the two boys had gotten to visit Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus. Including the world-famous ODEON cinema, the world’s largest LEGO store, and M&M world. 

The most entertaining part of that day out had been Professor McGonagall’s fascination with everything muggle; she was really not the most familiar with modern muggle culture, despite ten years of weekly visits to the decidedly muggle Dursley household. 

Much to Dudley’s and Harry’s amusement, the professor was displaying the same level of captivation now as they exited the Tottingham Court Road underground station. For today they were finally visiting Diagon Alley.

“Stay close to me now boys,” she ordered in her usual firm tone as they hurried across the crossroads with the crowd of muggle pedestrians and headed towards the Fitzrovia district, where the Leaky Cauldron could be found. Fairly quickly the crowds thinned out as they moved away from the shops and businesses into the more residential area where the wixen streets were cleverly hidden, such that there was only a handful of muggles zipping past when they approached the disguised pub.

To Dudley, the whole road looked as muggle and ordinary as any other. A private primary school on one side, old Georgian era buildings now owned by UCL beyond it. Other similar period houses lined the other side of the street with the same ornate black metal fencing in front of sandstone and pale brick facades. Cars parked neatly at the edge of the road and a row of trees between them and the flagged pavement.

Until McGonagall handed him a muggle-ward ring of course.

As soon as he slid the plain but warm silver onto his first finger, the unassuming corner house they were stood in front of suddenly blurred and refocused. Blinking to clear the fog from his eyes as the ring magically adjusted to be exactly his size, he became aware that the building now had a hand painted sign above the front window, a second sign swinging loosely in the faint breeze, and an assortment of flyers and posters stuck carefully to the glass of the front door.

“Come along then,” McGonagall sniffed. “Much to do, no time to waste.”

* * *

Thanks to the Professor’s lack of loitering, they made it through the Leaky Cauldron’s tap room unbothered and unaccosted, soon finding themselves in a quaint little backyard that looked entirely mundane to Dudley despite the ring he was wearing. There was even a collection of coloured muggle dustbins. When he shot a puzzled glance at Harry, his cousin shrugged back with an equally confused expression, so it wasn’t just Dudley who had no idea what was going on. 

Then the Professor whipped out her wand with her usual grace and tapped half a dozen of the bricks making up the back wall in a seemingly random pattern. 

The wall peeled open, bricks rotating and sliding away with a deep grating sound. And Dudley and Harry _finally_ got their first proper glance at wixen Britain. Magical, in all its glory.

“Oh my god!” Dudley breathed to himself gleefully as he stared down the revealed street. 

Colourful shops lined the stone-paved road, wooden bay windows doming outwards and arches above every door. People of all shapes and sizes and colours wrapped in robes that fluttered and flowed weaved up and down and around each other, arms laden with cauldrons and books and bags and cages as they stepped nimbly around the wares displayed outside each building. 

Pointed hats as far as the eye could see. 

Each building itself was tall and crooked, not a straight line insight as their eaves reached towards the brilliant blue sky. Sandstone and brick were once again the prominent building materials, but ancient wooden beams criss-crossed every floor and wrapped around every window. Smoke rose from many of the chimneys, curling upwards above the slate tile rooftops, and every now and again an owl swooped and dived down into the alley, packages and parcels and letters clutched securely in their talons.

“Wicked,” Harry almost-giggled from next to him, his eyes wide. Dudley understood the sentiment entirely; most of the buildings were leaning at such impossibly sharp angles that they absolutely would fall down if not for magic holding them upright. It lent the whole scene such a fantastical feeling that there really was nothing to do but giggle at the absurdity.

“Gringotts first boys,” McGonagall smiled slightly at them after a few moments, amusement bubbling in her eyes. “I trust you both still have your equipment and supply lists on your persons?”

“S’in my inner pocket,” Dudley grinned back as he patted the breast of the smart blazer his dad had insisted he wear. Harry nodded too, though he was considerably more casually dressed and so his was stored in the rucksack he had insisted on bringing. 

With another short, sharp nod, McGonagall set off down the magnificent street, her clothes shimmering from muggle-esque to wixen robes as they both joyfully raced to keep up with her.

* * *

Goblins. 

Real, proper living goblins.

Dudley had read about them of course, and seen several diagrams and the occasional wixen photo of the magical creatures, but that was nothing compared to seeing them in person. They were shorter than he had expected, even accounting for his own childhood lack of height, and many of them had a great deal more hair than he’d imagined. Where he had anticipated long hooked noses, he instead found facial features as diverse as those seen amongst humanity, with some eyes beady and some eyes wide and open, some noses hooked and some buttoned. Some ears floppy and some as pointed as a pixie’s.

Their skin was indeed quite leathery so the text books hadn’t been entirely wrong, but neither were all of them pale or as washed-out looking as described. In fact, the goblin teller that McGonagall was leading them towards was actually rather dark in complexion, with a shock of fine golden hair sprouting from both the top of their head and from the inside of their ears.

A diversified feast for the eyes to be sure.

“A withdrawal to make, and a currency exchange to make, should you be so kind,” the Professor asked after the usual good mornings and pleasantries had been exchanged. Not that the goblin they were dealing with had been keen to exchange anything but a perfunctory greeting, Dudley had noted with mirth. They didn’t even have a name plaque at their counter, or a tag on their fine black waistcoat or shirt. 

“Key?” they drawled a moment later, the single word drawn out and all but sneered.

“Present and accounted for, as is its owner, Mr Potter here,” McGonagall replied much more politely, holding up the burnished item in question. Putting it down on the polished marble bench afore them, the goblin grunted an assent and then turned to quickly rummage in a set of dark wooden cabinet drawers behind them. 

“Potter accounts,” they grunted again, slapping down a pile of thick parchment sheets, dense with black ink next to the key. “Wait here, Griphook will be along to sign these out and take you down to the vaults shortly.”

“I have an account?” Harry asked curiously as he stood on his tiptoes to try and peer at the topmost sheet. Dudley, being slightly taller, could barely see it himself, so Harry was wasting his time honestly. He doubted it was interesting anyway, if it was even written in English rather than Gobbledygook. 

“Several accounts in fact,” McGonagall smirked at him knowingly. “You are a rather well off young man if you must know.”

* * *

The mine cart ride was horrible and Dudley would really prefer to not actually be sick thank-you very much. Which was a distinct possibility if they had to zip about in the damn thing for much longer. Honestly, why were they still using such an old fashioned mode of transport!? Had they never heard of lifts? Or floo powder!?

On the other hand, Harry’s vault was pretty impressive. Even if it did make Dudley feel really rather skint.

* * *

With bags of wixen coins now in hand, Dudley having exchanged the handful of £20 notes his dad had given him in the glistening foyer upon their return, the trio stepped back out into the bustling street ready to start collecting everything on their lengthy school lists. 

“Uniforms first,” McGonagall instructed, already beginning to stride away down the gleaming white steps of the bank. “Your robes will need tailoring and infusing with the charm that will alter the lining colour following your sorting, so we shall get your measurements out of the way now. That will leave plenty of time for Madam Maulkin to fulfil your order so you can collect your packs before we leave.”

“It’s not just robes though right?” Dudley asked as he hastily skipped down the stairs too, Harry at his side. 

“No, you will need the full uniform. Which includes boots, shirts, cravats, trousers, under-robes and such. Thankfully, you can get all but the boots in Madam Maulkin’s. Keep up now boys.”

* * *

“Are you both for Hogwarts dears?” the kindly looking lady dressed entirely in mauve greeted them as they awkwardly hovered in the entrance area. The Professor had accompanied them to the door of the establishment, and then asked if they would be able manage by themselves for half an hour while she attended to an errand of her own. When they had both nodded, she had ushered them inside and then vanished off back towards the Leaky Cauldron without a second look.

The trust she displayed by leaving them was actually rather gratifying in Dudley’s opinion.

“Um, yes. Both of us,” Harry eventually answered quietly, his eyes tracking the levitating tape measure that was twisting fluidly above the tailor’s shoulders. 

“Lovely,” she smiled, spinning on the spot and heading towards the back of the store. “Come on through! Which version will you be needing my lads?”

Dudley exchanged yet another silently perplexed look with Harry.

“You’re first years aren’t you?” Madam Maulkin laughed gently, having noticed their expressions. “And muggleborn too from the look of your clothes. No worries, we’ll get you sorted. Up on the stools with you both!”

“Well. Um,” Harry stumbled some more as he climbed up onto the raised square platform. “We um- uhhhh...”

“Relax dear,” she smiled gently again. “Everyone has a first time getting school robes, no matter where they’re from or where they end up. I just need to take your measurements and make a note of whether you need the wixen or magic-adjacent versions of the uniform.”

“Uh, what’s the difference?” Dudley frowned, not liking that he already seemed to be being separated out. “S’just clothes innit?”

“Oh they’re very minor differences, don’t you worry love. Wixen’s just need a couple of extra pockets for their wand, that’s all. There’s one extra pocket in the left breast for them, and one in the sleeve. Everything else is identical.”

“Oh,” Dudley sighs, relieved. “Um, Harry needs wixen and I need um, the squib one then I guess.”

“And would you like any additional alterations either of you?” she asked as she got Harry to raise his arms so she could measure their length. “They’ll cost mind you, so be sure you have permission before you go spending.”

“Professor McGonagall said we should just get the standard uniform for now,” Harry piped up. “So I guess no?”

“Good good good. Take half a step forward with your left foot there for me dear, so I can take your inseam.”

* * *

By lunch time they were weighed down with all manner of purchases. Clothes, boots, books, trunks, cauldrons… and they still had a dozen more shops they needed to visit. Including Ollivander’s for Harry and Munvery’s for Dudley.

“Why can’t Harry do magic yet,” Dudley whined as the waiter of the café they’d stopped in at took their menus and orders away with him. “Then he could do one of them feather charm things to make everything lighter! My arms are killing me!”

“I don’t even have a wand yet Duds,” Harry rolled his eyes as he sipped his sparkling lemon-surprise drink. 

“And you know that no under-age magic is to be performed outside of the school or its grounds anyway,” McGonagall reminded him with a stern look. 

“You’re not underage though,” he pointed out mulishly. “You could do it for me! Pleeeeeease Professor!”

“Ah, but carrying all your own supplies is character building, Mr Dursley,” she smirked at him with a wink. “It’ll toughen you up nicely for the year ahead.”

“You’re so mean,” he tried to pout, knowing that his lips were twitching upwards and betraying his true feelings.

“And don’t you forget it young man,” she harrumphed with a sip of her tea and a secret smile of her own.

* * *

“Professor! Fancy seein’ yous here!” 

The man who greeted their small group was… big. Really big. Gigantically large humongously big. Dudley kept titling his head back to look up and up and yet the man still seemed to go upwards forever.

“Hagrid! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of grounds and keys at Hogwarts,” the giant man greeted, holding out a huge hand to shake. “And you mus’ be first year muggleborns, if ya with the professor!”

Dudley’s entire forearm was swallowed by Hagrid’s palm as he shamelessly gawped up at the man.

“This is Harry Potter and his muggle cousin, Dudley Dursley,” McGonagall introduced them. “Harry you know all about obviously, but Dudley here is joining the magical adjacent course this September.”

“Oh now isn’t tha’ wonderful!” Hagrid grinned down at them, his humongous brown moleskin coat jingling with the sound of hundreds of loose coins as he bent over slightly. “Bes’ thing Dumbledore’s done for the school and wixen community in years if you ask me! Wonderful, wonderful idea letting squibs and muggleborn siblings in! No less capable for their abilities, and the ministry in particula’ is well glad for all the extra qualified folks!”

“Um, thanks?” Dudley squeaked as he huddled slightly closer to Harry.

“Well it was lovely seein’ you Professor, but I best be off. Special errand for Dumbledore you see, gettin’ the you know wha’ from Gringotts.”

“Honestly bringing _that_ to Hogwarts is one of his less bright ideas if you ask me,” McGonagall grumbled. “A pure magnet for trouble, if there ever was one.”

“Dumbledore and um- well, the pair of ‘em agreed though, didn’t they so,” Hagrid shrugged awkwardly. “We’ll make it safe as houses. See you at the autumn term pre-meeting then?”

“And a good afternoon to you too Hagrid.”

“What was that about?” Dudley whispered to Harry as the giant sped away down the Alley, his strides massive. "What's a you know what?"

“I ‘unno?” Harry mumbled back with a shrug.

* * *

Ollivander’s was… odd. The shop and the man both. 

With hair like a mad science professor and just as much of a tendency to mumble nonsense under his breath, Dudley was quite intimidated if he were being honest. And he wasn’t even the one having to talk to him or try out loads of different wands. 

“Nope nope nope,” the man in question was muttering once again after Harry had accidentally exploded the gas lamp above the door. “That will not do at all.”

“Sorry,” Harry cringed, looking at the glass shattered all over the floor.

“Nope nope nope.”

“I always knew you were going to be a difficult one Harry,” McGonagall sighed tiredly as she flicked her own wand and repaired the lamp without even looking at it.

“Oh wait, I wonder…. Oh yes, I do wonder. Yes, yes, yeaaahhssss.”

So creepy indeed.

* * *

With his brand new wand now in hand, Professor McGonagall insisted that Harry get a proper leather wrist holster for it; one that would spring it forward into his hand with a subtle flick of his wrist. She was quite adamant on the idea, insisting that wands need taking proper care of and that a decent holster should be the least of his efforts towards doing so. Dudley’s cousin was therefore bundled into Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment with strict instructions on what to purchase, while Dudley himself found himself being swiftly escorted to Munvary’s Magic for Muggles store further down the road.

This store was a new one, having opened recently to cater specifically to the students enrolled on the increasingly popular squib and magical-adjacent course. As approval of the course and those on it had grown in the wider wixen society, the shop had also begun to cater to the parents and families of muggleborns, as well as to those students who had now completed their studies and gone on into the world of work and mastery apprenticeships.

Every year since its founding, it saw more and more customers.

It was here that Dudley would be getting his equivalent to a wand; his own muggle ward ring enchanted to allow him to see every wonder of the wixen world just as well as his wixen kin. Anti-muggle wards be gone!

There was, as you’d expect, an increasingly wide market for them, but new ministry regulation brought in five years ago insisted that each ring had to be keyed to its owner and registered the same way wands were. This was to prevent any old muggle being able to put on a ring and inadvertently discover the magical world. Which had happened several years ago when a bunch of pureblood bigots had tried to make a point by scattering a number of them throughout muggle London. 

It hadn’t had the affect they wanted as the rings had not been banned and made illegal, but it had lead to tighter legislation surrounding them. Legislation which had actually lead to them being more common place and accepted ironically. 

Because of this, Hogwarts was the only institution allowed to own a selection of rings not keyed to an individual aside from the ministry. The rings were to be loaned out on a strictly temporary and well monitored basis, and only to the family of muggleborns until they were able to purchase and register their own personal rings. 

The one that Dudley was currently wearing was one such a piece. And he really couldn’t wait to get his own; he was in fact, going to obtain the biggest, shiniest one possible and wave it around in front of his parents _all the time!_

The perfect way to deal with their shitty attitude towards wixen and magic, he was sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was pointed out to me a few years ago that the goblins in HP are basically an anti-semitic caricature. While I think this is one of the few cringy things that was done entirely unintentionally by JK as the UK is exceedingly secular by most countries standards, its still, well. Cringy. I have therefore attempted to diversify the race a bit here. 
> 
> Also I always thought the Hogwarts uniform was decidedly too muggle, especially once the films stopped bothering with the robes and stuck them all in boring grey jumpers and black trousers. The only difference between that and my actual uniform is that we didn't wear ties and our jumpers were black ffs 😂 I am therefore doing What I Want™. Jumpers out, fancy wizard's waistcoats with tails in. also I think the school ties should be more like cravats, as that fits with the 1800s theme the wixen world has going everywhere else 😂


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I'm pretty diligent about making sure nothing is anachronistic when I'm writing, but this time I actively decided I don't care. If you hadn't already noticed, I've been deliberately avoiding mentioning any years. This is so I can do whatever the hell I want, damn the consequences ;) Kings Cross station (a place I have been far too often, having attended a London uni) is therefore described mostly as it is now [2021]. The whole building was renovated and restored according to it's original 1800s designs in 2014, a vast improvement on it's previous 1950s and 70s mutilation. 
> 
> That said, I'm mostly thinking of an early 00s aesthetic? Yes, that. Make of that what you will. 
> 
> And yes, platforms 9 and 10 really are in different buildings, and have been for _years_ lol. I'm talking pre-WWII years 😂 You also can't actually get to any of the platforms unless you go through the faregates/turnstiles soooo...

The morning of the 31st of August had dawned bright and clear. Dudley knew this because he’d been awake half the night due to excitement, and had watched the sun creep up over the town of Little Whinging from his bedroom window. 

Today was _the_ day. 

The first day of the rest of his life…

(Harry was always saying that he needed to stop babbling out ridiculous cliches, but Dudley didn’t care. He would spew as much banal drivel as he liked thank you very much.)

When his alarm finally began ringing at 06:15, he shoved his curtains all the way open and bounced his way over to his bedroom door. Yanking it open, he realised he could hear Harry’s alarm also going off and so he quickly darted into the bathroom, eager to get first dibs on the shower. 

Emerging twenty minutes later bundled up in far too many fluffy blue towels, he then found himself facing the biggest dilemma of all time… Did he put on normal muggle clothing and change on the train? Or did he pull half his uniform out of his school trunk now and wear that? If he didn’t put the main robe on and forewent the scarfy-tie thing (cravat? Was that the word?) then he would just about blend in until they arrived at Kings Cross station. Right?

Actually maybe not, given that the under-robe was essentially a waistcoat with tails and his trousers were brilliant white. McGonagall said they’d get a stripe in his house colour down the side of either leg once he was sorted, but even without that they were rather unusual looking. He’d probably stand out like a sore thumb.

Dudley’s dad had certainly had a choice word or two about the attire when he’d tried it all on for the first time, and none of those words had been complimentary.

Sighing, he decided it was safer and more sensible to put on some of his normal every day clothes, and so he turned to his wardrobe contemplatively. Most of his favourites had already been bundled into his trunk so that he’d have stuff to wear on evenings and weekends while at school, but there was still plenty to choose from. Less than there once had been, given that he’d started letting Harry rifle through the hangers and take whatever he wanted (with assistance from Mr Albus when it came to resizing so that things fit his cousin properly), but quite a variety nevertheless.

 _Jeans_ he decided. Couldn’t go wrong with a nice pair of jeans right? And that silky grey shirt his mum had insisted on getting him last week, complaining that he was getting too skinny by far. If he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows...?

Or maybe not jeans. Not with that shirt.

Damn, maybe Harry was right after all whenever he snorted and called Dudley vain.

* * *

By seven o’clock, both boys were pacing around the living room, their stacks of school gear by the door waiting to be loaded into the car. They weren’t actually leaving for another hour _at least,_ but well. They were excited!

As far as they were both concerned, the sooner they got to set off, the better. 

“Might go get some more breakfast,” Dudley sighed remorsefully, shooting yet another wistful look towards the front door.

“You already had two bowls of cereal, half a plate of bacon and toast, and a cinnamon and raisin english muffin,” Harry snorted back as he fiddled with the catch on his owl’s cage again. 

The owl was magnificent; a brilliant snowy white speckled with subtle flecks of grey down her back. To the best of Dudley’s knowledge, Harry still hadn’t chosen a name for his bird so he was mentally referring to her as Feathers. Not the most inventive, Dudley admitted, but Harry was the smart one out of the pair of them so it wasn’t _that_ bad all considering.

“I’m still hungry though,” Dudley grumbled back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No you’re not, you’re just boredom eating.”

Dudley knew Harry was right, but he still huffed disparagingly. He liked food okay? Even if Professor McGonagall had taught him that constantly eating everything in sight came with progressively worse consequences. And made running to keep up with his tiny lanky cousin harder. 

“Fine, whatever,” he grumbled, twisting his white gold engraved ring around his finger in an endless loop. “I’ll just get an apple then. Do you want anything?”

“Nah, thanks Duds.”

Sighing deeply again, he checked the catch on the cage of his own tiny black Tamaulipas pygmy owl, Hercules, before stomping off to raid the fruit bowl in the kitchen.

* * *

Dudley didn’t know why he was expecting otherwise.

He’d just assumed, for some reason, that his dad would pull into the St. Pancreas undergorund car park and walk with him and Harry into Kings Cross’ at least as far as the concourse. But instead they’d driven straight passed the entrance barriers and steered into the drop off bay between the two stations. 

Vernon Dursley didn’t even switch the ignition off.

“We’ll get your stuff out of the boot but I’m not fooling around trying to find a stupid half platform,” his dad grunted as the two boys blinked in surprise. 

“But-?” Dudley started. 

“Oh don’t worry Diddykins,” his mum immediately tried placating, cutting him off. But despite her seemingly reassuring words, her tone was anything but; harsh indeed. “You’ll just have to look for a group of freaky people and follow them. Those magic types have no idea how to dress properly or act rationally after all!”

“Lemme guess,” Harry grumbled from next to him as he opened his door and started to climb out. “You’re hoping we can’t find the platform and miss the train.”

“DAD!” Dudley screeched as he hopped out of the car himself, realising Harry was probably right.

“Now you can write to us son,” his dad continued on blithely as if Dudley hadn’t just shrieked loud enough to cause dozens of heads to turn his way. “But you’ll be using Her Majesty’s proper royal mail you understand me? None of that beastly owl nonsense; I want stamps and postmarks. And keep the content clean and upstanding! Try to befriend the other decent magicless boys and stay away from the riff-raff okay?”

“DAD, YOU HAVE TO WALK US TO THE TRAIN!”

“Come and give us a big hug now darling, and we’ll be here to whisk you away from all that nonsense as soon as you come home for Christmas. We’ll have lots of nice presents waiting for you!”

“MUM!” He yelled again, stomping his feet and decidedly not moving towards her to give the demanded hug. 

“I’ll go get some luggage trolleys,” Harry muttered with a roll of his eyes, already wandering off.

* * *

“We’re being stared at,” Dudley whispered nervously as he pushed his trolley into the main concourse and glanced around uneasily. The ceiling was giant and domed, a great grid of white coated steel beams that flowed like a waterfall underneath the clean glass roof, and everywhere he looked more muggles with wheeled suitcases or holdalls darted to and fro or stopped to watch the info boards flicker back and forth.

“That’s because we’re two unaccompanied kids with owls and old fashioned trunks,” Harry mumbled dryly, also looking unsettled despite his self-assured words. “We should have asked McGonagall where the platform actually is. Our stupid tickets don’t say.”

“We’ve just gotta find nine and ten and look between them right?” Dudley suggested weakly. He glanced up at the electronic departure boards again, despite already knowing that there wasn’t a magical addition to it; his ring would let him see it if there was.

“Except platform ten is over in that building,” Harry stuttered, pointing over his shoulder. “And platform nine is somewhere in that one!” now pointing straight ahead.

Dudley was not ashamed to admit that he whimpered at this point.

“Wait, look!” 

Dudley’s head snapped round to try and work out whatever it was that Harry had suddenly spotted. And then he sighed with relief.

Walking through the concourse towards the open ticket gates was a large family all with bright red hair that were all wearing old-fashioned beige jumpers and corduroy trousers. Just like Dudley and Harry, they were pushing luggage trolleys loaded down with big leather cases, an owl cage, and what Dudley was fairly sure were racing brooms.

“Come on, lets follow them,” Harry nudged him. Dudley nodded enthusiastically and quickly turned his trolley so that they could hurry after the distinctive family, tailing them into the rail building directly in front of them. 

The great big Victorian tunnel filled with platforms was busy with even more people, hundreds of muggles flowing down platform five as they departed a blue and grey diesel engine train. Trying his best to stick close to Harry and make sure Herc’ wasn’t too anxious in the crowd, Dudley found himself wishing he was taller; he was sure that any moment now they were going to completely loose sight of the obvious wixen group of red-heads and once again end up confused and alone. 

“It’s the same every year, packed with Muggles!” a voice suddenly called out completely unsubtlely.

Dudley snorted. Maybe they didn’t need to be able to physically see them to be able to follow them after all.

* * *

With a bit of help, they learnt that the entrance to 9¾ was actually between platforms eight and nine. Despite the encouraging words of the kindly woman – a Mrs Weasley apparently – and Harry volunteering to go first, Dudley had _not_ enjoyed barrelling through the extremely solid looking brick wall.

But the sight of the magical bright red Hogwarts Express on the other side… Now that was something he’d never forget. It looked _magnificent_

“Fred! Help the young’ens with their trunks,” Mrs Weasley demanded as more and more wixen kept pouring through the barrier or shooting out of the floo fireplaces along the back wall. “Percy, oh Percy love, I know you have to go get on with your prefect duties, but…”

Dudley was awestruck as one of the twins hauled all his luggage up through a carriage door for him; so much so that he completely forgot to thank Mrs Weasley for her assistance before she vanished, running off after the eldest looking of her sons.

* * *

He and Harry soon found an empty compartment, dragging their trunks under the plush-looking seats and carefully placing their owl cages under the window. Dudley had seen a few compartments with tables in them as they’d walked up the long corridor, but all of them had already been filled with older-looking students. This one was towards the back of the train where it was quieter, but it only had the benches lining either side and a net luggage rack suspended above each.

He was really hungry again now.

He knew he ought to wait for lunch before devouring the sandwiches that Harry had made for them both, but the temptation was too great, so he dropped to his knees and started to unbuckle his main trunk. The lid popped free with a satisfying clunk and he once again marveled at the expansion charm which allowed the space inside to bigger than it should be. 

Just as he stuck his hand down into the leftmost compartment to grab the Tupperware box he’d shoved in their this morning, the door to their compartment slid open. 

“Mind if I join you, everywhere else is already full,” a slightly timid voice asked. 

Grasping his edible prize, Dudley pulled back triumphantly just as Harry smiled an affirmative. And then when he turned to stand back up and reclaim his seat, his eyes landed on the owner of the new voice. Yet another red head! 

“Blimey, how many Weasleys are there!?” he blurted out before he could think better of it. Harry snorted at his usual lack of tact and Dudley felt his cheeks heat. Everyone was always reminding him to think before he spoke but well. The reason they kept having to remind him was because he kept not doing it.

“I uh, have six siblings,” the boy shrugged awkwardly. “I’m the youngest boy, but I have a little sister. My name’s Ron.”

“This is Duds, and I’m Harry.”

“What, like Harry Potter!? My brothers said they just met him, though I bet they were having me on. They’re right pranksters, Fred and George. Pretty neat having the same first name though.”

“Nah, he _is_ Harry Potter,” Dudley grinned as he tossed the lid of his lunch box to one side and grabbed a ham and cucumber roll. “Got the lightning fork scar and everything.”

“No way!” Ron’s eyes went wide, staring at Harry’s forehead. “That’s so cool!”

“S’just a scar,” Harry tried to wave away, but he was grinning like a loon so Dudley knew he was feeling slightly proud anyway.

* * *

A loud whistle echoed, the train lurched into motion, and great steam clouds billowed past their window as they pulled out of the station at 11 o’clock on the dot. Soon the high rises of central London were giving way to the smaller houses of the suburbs, and then into the gently rolling hills of Hertfordshire.

Ron pulled a game of exploding snap out from somewhere, and Dudley steadily devoured his lunch, inhaling all of it before they’d even made it ten minutes out of the city. He’d probably regret that in a couple of hours but-

“Oh bugger,” Dudley suddenly groaned out loud, still staring at his watch. His exceptionally _digital_ watch.

Honestly he was surprised it was still working with how much magic was probably flowing through the train. He’d meant to swap it for the analogue one Professor McGonagall had gotten him for his 11th birthday, but well. In his excitement to get dressed and finish packing, he’d forgotten and put his old one on automatically.

“What?” Harry asked him with a raised eyebrow. Dudley waved his wrist at him in response.

“Woah, is that a diggy-tal clock?” Ron gasped, scrambling over to poke at it, snap cards forgotten. “My dad told me all about them once. He works at the ministry as a muggle specialist.”

“It’s a CASIO,” Dudley smirked. “Harry’s got one too, but I doubt he brought it with him. I really hope it doesn’t explode once we get to the school.”

“Oh yeah, that might happen,” Ron frowned as he flipped Dudley’s wrist over. “Dad said Hogwarts and muggle technology doesn’t mix well unless it’s been modified. Actually hang on, I got an idea. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Before Dudley could ask him what his idea was, Ron had shoved the door open with a bang again and gone running off towards the front of the train.

* * *

Before the other boy could return, Dudley found himself meeting yet more fellow first years. This time in the form of a bright eyed girl with _very_ big bushy hair, and a small mousy looking boy nervously hovering behind her and looking miserable. 

“I’m Hermione Granger,” the girl introduced with an offered hand, her teeth gleaming extremely white in contrast to her dark skin. “We’re looking for a lost toad. Have you seen it?”

“No, sorry,” Harry replied quietly, frowning as he shook once. “But you could get one of the older students to summon it I guess? There’s a charm I think.”

“Summon it?” Hermione cocked her head curiously and apparently invited herself into their compartment. “Do you already know some spells? I read all my schoolbooks and memorised loads of them, but I haven’t had a chance to actually practice any yet. Because of the trace you know. Have you heard of the trace? I’d love to know how that works, but I haven’t got any books about it yet. I’m hoping they’ll have some in the library so I can look it up. I can’t wait to see the Hogwarts library, I bet it’s wonderful. I imagine it’ll become my favourite place in the school very quickly, especially if they have tables in there we can work at quietly. I like to get all my work done early see, so that I can then read and look up whatever I want without worrying. You’re welcome to join me, I really like helping other people with their school work. So long as you actually try to understand it of course and don’t just copy me or the book without properly thinking about what you’re writing.”

Dudley swallowed and shot a mystified look at the smaller boy still hovering nervously in the doorway. 

“You um, like books then?” Harry asked cautiously, looking rather blindsided himself. 

“Oh yes, they’re fantastic! Have you read many? Which ones are your favourites? Mine change as I discover new ones, but I must have read Hogwarts: a History a dozen time in the last month so I guess I like that one the most right now. But the transfiguration books were also brilliant and I spent a lot of time reading the first standard book of spells too. Is that how you know about a summoning spell, from one of the books later in the series? I only have the first one right now, as that was the one on our school shopping lists. Oh! I forget that not everyone is a muggleborn like me, so you could have just learnt it from an older sibling or your parents.”

“Harry doesn’t have parents,” Dudley mumbled with a wince. “And mine are horrible and hate magic. We don’t have siblings either.”

“Oh how awful for you both! Your parents being dead or horrible I mean, not your lack of siblings. Wait, are you related then? You don’t look very similar. But then- Harry was it? Well you’re a person of colour like me so… I suppose actually it would make more sense if you were simply friends who grew up near each other? I don’t know why I assumed you must be related just from what you said, that was silly of me.”

“Uhhh,” Harry replied eloquently.

“I’m Neville,” the other boy by the door interjected quietly with a small wave, obviously trying to take advantage of Hermione’s pause for breath.

“Dudley Dursley, Harry’s cousin” Dudley snorted. “You want to come in too Nev? Our friend Ron should be back soon and he’s got an exploding snap deck.”

“Wait! You’re Harry Potter!” Hermione suddenly gasped. And then she was off again, another thousand words per minute. Oddly enough, Dudley found he didn’t mind her constant chatter; the amount of stuff she knew was actually pretty cool.

* * *

“Duds! This Hufflepuff says she can fix your watch!”

“This Hufflepuff he says, like I didn’t already tell him my name twice,” the older student rolled their eyes fondly as they leaned in the doorway, Ron hopping back over to the seat he had claimed earlier. “I’m Tonks, one of the seventh year prefects. And it’s they kid, not she.”

“Oh. Oh!” Ron frowned for a moment before breaking into a brilliant grin. “Him for me, no matter what else you might hear.”

Dudley had no idea what they were on about, but it was easy to just shrug and hold his watch arm out instead of asking; he wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling that might be rude. ‘sides, Hermione would probably explain it for him later anyway if he asked.

“Hey, do you know a summoning charm?” Hermione asked as Tonks started poking his arm with her wand. “Only poor Neville’s lost his toad!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trans rights yo. 
> 
> [An speed sketch](https://insane-sociopath.tumblr.com/post/643312449520533504/ive-been-working-on-a-harry-potter-fic-the-last), for yours uniform ogling amusements. yee boi.
> 
> Next up, Malfoy and the dreaded sorting. Seriously, I have absolutely _no idea_ where to sort Dudley. None.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Draco Malfoy redeemable? Yes. Is he also a stuck up little shit? Definitely also yes 😂

Okay, he admitted it. 

Eating his lunch by twenty past eleven had been a mistake.

It was almost seven in the evening now, and while Harry had dished out for a sizeable pile of wixen sweets and chocolate to share with everyone earlier, there was only so many of those that you could eat before you realised that only a proper dinner would really curb the hunger. 

Bloody hell, what he wouldn’t give for a big plate of sausage and mash slathered in hot, meaty gravy right about now. 

Plus well, apparently Hermione’s parents were dentists so she had loads and loads of stories about what happened to your teeth if you only ate sugar. Dudley was growing quite concerned about his enamel to be honest. Sighing, he turned to stare out the window again, watching the great sweeping crags and cliffs zoom past as he tried to ignore the rumbling of his stomach. 

It was growing dark outside now, the fern covered expanse of the Scottish Highlands slowly beginning to disappear under the encroaching darkness. The gas lights in their cabin had all swooped on with a quiet crackle of flame about half an hour ago, leading Hermione to launch into another gleeful monologue on the usefulness of the _lumos_ incantation. Unexpectedly, that had caused Neville to stir from his quiet huddle in the back left corner in order demonstrate the charm, which in turn had triggered the realisation that the Hogwarts Express must count as an extension of the Hogwarts grounds and thus be exempt from the underage magic laws. 

Or rather it wasn’t truly exempt, Dudley had thought as Ron had unsuccessfully poked the broken bridge of Harry’s glasses with his chipped wand, but the part of the laws that said you could freely do underage magic at Hogwarts must also by extension apply to the train.

“What ‘bout you Duds?” Ron asked him as he flicked another page in Hermione’s standard book of spells over. “You want to try any of these charms? This levitation one looks cool.”

“Oh um,” Dudley frowned as he tugged awkwardly at his plain black cravat. “I’m not a wizard, I can’t do magic.”

“Oh! You’ve got a ward-ring, should have noticed that!” Ron shrugged easily, obviously unbothered. “Awesome, that means you get to do more of the fun classes rather than all the theory we have to right? Care of Magical Creatures and that?”

“Uh-huh,” Dudley nodded, relieved. Professor McGonagall had warned him several times that some wixen had not yet learnt that anti-magic prejudices were childish and unproductive and that while he should be very proud of his own capabilities, he should also keep a wary eye open. 

(She’d also given him a transfigured stinger tube that would zap anyone being a git if he pointed it at them, but she’d winked at him as she handed it over and cautioned him to keep it hidden.)

He was very glad that Ron didn’t seem to have these prejudices.

“You must count as a Muggleborn sibling then!” Hermione interjected with a brilliant grin, obviously having overheard his and Ron’s conversation. “I wish I had a sibling sometimes, someone who would love all the same things I do and I could share everything with. Not that I mind being an only child, but I think it would be nice.”

“Eh, siblings are pretty hit and miss,” Ron shrugged back. “Bill and Charlie have always been alright, and Percy is okay so long you ignore his long boring rants about rules and procedures and don’t let him get away with snitching on you. But Fred and George can be right menaces and Ginny gets away with murder ‘cause she’s the youngest.”

“They’re all witches and wizards though right? No squibs?”

“Bill says he’s a wixen not a wizard, but yeah. All magic. Actually I hadn’t met a mag-adj before Duds today.”

“Mag-adj?” Hermione queried, her head cocked curiously to one side. 

“S’short for magically adjacent muggle,” Dudley yawned with a stretch. “S’what most people call people like me, ‘cause muggle on its own implies you don’t know about magic.”

“Well I know to stay far away from you then,” a sneering voice abruptly drawled from the doorway. The whole carriage fell silent at those unpleasant sounding words, Dudley narrowing his eyes and noticing that Harry was also suddenly scowling. “My father still can’t believe that old fool Dumbledore allowed Hogwarts to become even more tainted by your sort, as if it wasn’t already bad enough.”

“And you are?” Hermione asked with icy coldness chilling her words.

“Draco Malfoy, awaiting your service” the short blonde boy smirked with a mocking short bow. Dressed in the same black and white pre-sorting robes as the rest of them, the newcomer held himself arrogantly and was flanked by two other boys that had all of Dudley’s brawn, but also had the height to match. With his oily slicked back hair and chin-raised posture, Dudley could immediately tell he was looking at precisely the type of pureblood fanatic that McGonagall had warned him about. 

“Oh great, here we go” Ron grumbled quietly, folding his arms and slouching in his seat with an eye roll. 

“Red hair, and hand me down robes?” Malfoy scoffed. “You must be yet another Weasley. Honestly, is there no-one at all of decent breeding in this compartment?”

“Yeah, everyone but you apparently,” Dudley snarked boldly. Neville, who had somehow managed to withdraw into his own robes as if he was hiding, snorted at that. Dudley grinned at him in amusement and got a small smirk in return, making him doubly pleased he’d spoken up; Nev seemed like the sort of guy who would make a really good mate.

“Bit full of yourself muggle, aren’t you?” Malfoy snarled harshly. “Come on, at least _one_ of you has to be pure and therefore worth knowing. My Father taught me the names of all the wixen from reputable families starting school this year and I haven’t met all of them yet. So hurry up and speak up so that I can get out of here already.”

“Your Dad’s like mine, in’t he?” Dudley huffed, confidence growing.

Malfoy didn’t seem to know what to say to that, but his look of disgusted horror was entertaining. Dudley must have managed to hit a sore point.

“My- My father is _nothing_ like yours, you snivelling little screwt!” he managed to stutter eventually. 

“Totally bigoted arsehole that thinks he’s better than everyone else and has strong but incorrect opinions about magic? Yeah, sounds like our dads are exactly the same actually.”

“Sounds right to me,” Harry agreed with a laugh.

“You lot know nothing about my father!”

“Don’t need to,” Hermione giggled. “Clearly you’re a carbon copy incapable of independent thought.”

“Who the hell do you think you are!”

“Well she’s Hermione Granger, witch extraordinaire,” Harry snickered. “That’s my cousin Dudley, Ron you already seem to know, Neville Longbottom is the friendly one in the corner. And I’m Harry Potter! Wish we could say it’s been nice to meet you, but it really hasn’t. Bye now!”

And with that, Dudley lurched to his feet and swiped the door shut in Malfoy’s face. It was a real shame that he hadn’t quite managed to clip the horrible little bigot’s nose, Dudley thought as it clanged against the frame with a satisfying bang.

“What’s a carbon copy?” Ron asked in the amused silence that followed.

* * *

Dudley was nervous about leaving his trunk and Hercules behind on the train, but he clambered off onto the warmly lit station platform with everyone else anyway. Besides, he was sure that he was equally as excited as he was nervous!

Full darkness had fallen now, the night sky above them filled with hundreds of glistening stars. This far away from the light pollution of cities, the Milky Way was visible as a brilliant hazy streak of white and blue, cutting across the black like the blaze of one of Mr Albus’s brightest spells. 

“Firs’ years, first years this way!” a familiar voice called over the milling crowd.

“It's Hagrid!” Harry yelled from beside him, bouncing on his toes with a big smile. “Come on guys, follow me.”

“Who?” Hermione asked as they all began weaving through the older students towards the giant man, who was still helpfully announcing his presence.

“He’s massive,” Dudley told her as he ducked under the flailing arm of an enthusiastic Ravenclaw. “Harry and I met him in Diagon Alley. He’s like the groundskeeper or something? You know, like a fancy gardener I think, but with animals n’ stuff too.”

“Oh hello boys!” The huge man in question greeted them as they finally managed to weave their way to the front. “Nice t’ see you again! Ah see you’ve made some friends!”

“Uh-huh,” Dudley nodded back cheerfully. 

“Good!” Hagrid smiled too. “Is that all of ya? First years! Firs’ years to me! Any stragglers? First years all come over here!”

The last of the older students in their house delineated uniforms seemed to have passed them now, streaming away down a path at the far end of the platform. Around Dudley and the others, a fairly large group of shorter black-and-white clad students had gathered, huddled together and whispering eagerly. 

“Right then!” Hagrid called. “Follow me!”

* * *

Hogwarts was… Hogwarts was…

Dudley didn’t actually have the words to describe how amazing it looked as they sailed over the lake towards it.

* * *

“Harry?” Dudley mumbled nervously as they climbed staircase after staircase up from an underground cavern boathouse towards the castle perched above. “You’ll um, still talk to me if we get separate houses right?”

“Yes?” Harry replied as though it were obvious.

“You sure?”

“Well yeah? We’ll still have quite a few classes and stuff together even if we don’t share a dorm room. And McGonagall told me we only have to sit at our house tables at dinner. We can sit wherever at breakfast and lunch.”

“Oh thank god, ‘cause I really don’t know where I’m gonna end up and you know I’m rubbish at making mates.”

“My gran and Uncle Algie want me to get into Gryffindor,” Neville told him quietly, adjusting his pointy hat as it once again tried to slide off. “Hufflepuff sounds good though, and I bet Hermione’s a Ravenclaw with all that reading she does.”

“That’s what my mum and dad said too,” Hermione smiled breathlessly as they finally came to a stop in front of a huge pair of closed wooden double doors. Behind them lay a great big open arched doorway that led out to an external courtyard lined with moss and ivy. A huge brass clock pendulum was swinging slowly above it, wooshing quietly with every arc but somehow not disturbing the air. A grand stone staircase with a bright scarlet carpet sweeping down its centre was adjacent to it, the stairs splitting at the base of a giant circular stained glass window so that you could carry on upwards to either the left or the right. 

Two smaller archways were underneath the span of those stairs, towering figures carved into the stone either side of them with imposing suits of plate armour flanking them as well. The door that they’d entered into this main entrance hall from was smaller and placed off centre on the fourth wall, and next to it stood four enormous hourglasses, each filled at the top with fine glistening crystals in the house colours. The bottom section of each were empty at present, and the split-panel counters at the base all read 0000. 

Dudley knew that meant that no house points had been given or taken away yet. But he was sure they’d start filling up soon.

“How does the sorting even work?” Ron whispered anxiously to Harry in front of him as they continued to wait for whatever was supposed to happen next. “Fred and George said you have to fight a troll! There’s not gonna be a troll right!?”

“It’s just a hat,” Harry mumbled back as one of the great doors afore them creaked slightly open. “All you have to do is put it on and it tells you your house.”

“Oh,” Ron breathed, his shoulders visibly drooping in relief.

“McGonagall!” Dudley squeaked with a grin before he could stop himself as the stern but kind witch stepped through the doors and closed them again behind her. Sheepishly, he waved at her when she raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t otherwise comment. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she greeted the group, clapping her hands together once. “Now, in a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses.”

Dudley found himself unsure whether to shiver with nerves or tremble in excitement.

* * *

About fifteen students were called up to the stool and had the tattered old hat placed upon their heads before Dudley’s turn came around. Those who had gone before him had ended up in an almost even split between the houses, the hat shouting out its decision rather loudly every time and causing raucous cheers and applause to swell up from the “winning” house table. 

He’d only noticed one ward-ring on the right hand of those though, a _Cornes, Alfred_ that had ended up in Ravenclaw. The others, he supposed, must all be wixen.

“Durlsey, Dudley!” Professor McGonagall finally read of her list, and now he was _sure_ that he was more nervous than excited. What if the hat couldn’t decide!? Or what if it thought he shouldn’t be at Hogwarts at all!? Or what if-!

He sat, and the hat was lowered onto his head.

 _Well now, you’re an interesting one!_ The hat greeted cheerily, its words popping straight into his mind.

“Hello?” Dudley wobbled back as he jerked in surprise.

_No need to speak out loud, my boy! I can hear you just fine this way._

“Um, are you-” he started saying anyway before clamping his mouth shut, embarrassed. _Oh, okay? Hi, how are you?_

_A polite one hmmm… interesting indeed, given your raising. Yes, lots of courage there, standing up to your family the way you do, standing up against all those intent on discrimination. Very Gryffindor of you._

_Gryffindor?_ He mused, thinking of McGonagall and Mr Albu- _Professor Dumbledore,_ he supposed he ought to use now that they were finally here. He knew the two professors had been sorted into Gryffinfor when they were students, and it would probably be nice to end up there too.

_Ah, but it’s learnt bravery I see, stemmed from a desire to protect your cousin. Not something that comes naturally to you, and not a facet you particularity prize either. You’re proud of it, but you don’t desire more of it. And I see you’re not keen on adventure either, for all that you’ll follow others into it. No, not Gryffindor. Oh but, plenty of ambition too I see…_

_Slytherin’s ambition right?_ He pondered anxiously, imagining having to share a house and dorm room with Malfoy and his nameless looming sidekicks – which was where he was sure they would all end up. He could do it, possibly even convince the arrogant boy to think for himself instead of parroting his father but- 

_Yes, a lot of ambition you have here. But again, only in the desire to right the world’s wrongs… and while you have some cunning, it doesn’t run much further than knowing how to guilt trip and manipulate your parents. You could fit in, even thrive and excel, if you were to work at it, actively hone what talent you already have. But that’s not what you want, is it?_

Dudley didn’t concretely think the words, but he was sure the hat could sense his agreement anyway.

_Oh but the other two… You’d do well in either I believe. The shining loyalty of a Hufflepuff, the determination and strong sense of morality. Hard working when you find the motivation, not afraid to ask for help when you need it. Or Ravenclaw! Such potential you have there, the thirst for knowledge so that you might do better for yourself and others, the curiosity that has often driven you to take apart your toys and belongings. I can see great things in your future if you’re shown the way to apply your unique brand of intelligence._

_But I’m not smart_ or _friendly and kind!?_ Dudley worried, shuffling on the stool self-consciously. Harry was the clever one, always having to fix what he broke. And that was before he even began to consider Hermione… and honestly, he knew he could be really mean; that’s why he always had to try so hard to only target other mean people!

 _You underestimate yourself greatly_ the hat chuckled in his head as people in the hall begin to whisper _hat stall? hat stall? hat stall?_

 _I don’t just see your potential, I see what truly could be, young Mr Dursley,_ the hat continued. _I divine your house as much as choose it. In Hufflepuff you would hone your fierceness. In Ravenclaw you would become inventive beyond measure… And in either you would still gain both in equal portion. But where to put you?_

 _The one where I can protect Harry_ he tentatively tried offering. 

The whispering in the hall grew to a low murmur, and from beneath the hat’s floppy brim he could see Professor McGonagall frowning at him in concern.

 _Loyalty or curiosity?_ The hat mused _It’s a shame I can’t call out Huffleclaw. Now that would be a sight for this old hat to see!_

 _I want to look after Harry_ he tried again more firmly. 

_You could protect the entire world with your inventiveness, but I see loyalty is winning out right now. Which means..._

“Hufflepuff!” the hat finally shouted out loud.

Dudley just about fainted in relief. Honestly he thought it was never going to make up it’s mind!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, gently placing Dudley in my own house: There is no bias here at all sir! Honest!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> co-ed dorms ftw. No exclusionist binary gender bedrooms in my house, thank you!

It could be said that Dudley Dursley was a fan of food.

This would be rather an understatement to be perfectly honest. Dudley was not a simple _fan_ of food after all. He was an utter devotee, an expert enthusiast, an experienced aficionado. _Despite_ the restrictions that his narrow-minded and unadventurous parents had attempted to place upon his palette; restrictions that he’d had to go to quite a colossal effort to circumvent.

(Or well, that a certain someone had gone to a colossal effort to circumvent on his and Harry’s behalf.)

Professor Minerva McGonagall had been born and raised in the far-northern Scottish village of Caithness and had grown up surrounded mostly by muggles. As a halfblood with a muggle father who’d been born in the late 1800s, the foods she eaten and the meals she had consumed had largely consisted of the traditional meats, fish, and potato dishes of her country. Despite the shudder the comparison would have caused them, the adult Dursley’s own tastes were not that dissimilar to this and so she hadn’t found it overtly difficult to use her own favourites as a starting point for the boys’ cultural growth.

Fudge-like Scottish tablet had gone down particularly well.

But Minerva McGonagall had been determined that Harry would grow up knowing and experiencing all that he could of his own cultural heritage. It had taken a small amount of experimenting and research to discover where she should start, as it was all fairly new to her too, but by the time the boys were approaching their fifth birthdays, she felt she was more than ready to venture out into the wonderful world of Indian cuisine. 

Dragging Harry and Dudley along for the ride of course.

As you’d expect, it had not taken long for their bi-monthly Indian restaurant and produce store trips to expand to include other cultures and tastes. 

To the great consternation of his parents, Dudley had therefore grown up eating just as much curry, stir-fry, and risotto as he had English meat and two veg combinations. He’d never actually asked, but he imagined that his mum and dad would be highly unimpressed by the ease with which he could use chopsticks.

He was, therefore, _utterly thrilled_ by the variety of foods that appeared upon his new house table when the Hogwarts feast finally began. A variety that, he realised with amusement, must had grown even wider in recent years thanks to McGonagall’s new tendency to gift the kitchen elves with interesting recipes she’d discovered while out with he and Harry.

Piling his plate high with a questionable combination of Cumberland sausages, Mediterranean pasta salad, and Chinese spring rolls (questionable enough to cause the dark skinned girl sat opposite him to stare at him in concern), he swivelled in his seat to grin at Harry, who was conviently sat directly behind him at the Gryffindor table. Candles bobbed magically up and down above their heads as they reached across the gap and bumped their knuckles together.

Neither of them had ever seen so much food in one place before and it was _awesome_

“You know Harry Potter?” the small boy sat next to him asked timidly, his eyes wide with amazement. Dudley hadn’t thought it possible but he was somehow even shorter than Harry was, and thin as a twig too. Professor McGonagall was always saying a simple stiff breeze would be all it took to knock Harry over, but Dudley thought the breeze wouldn’t even need to be _stiff_ to send this kid flying.

“Harry’s my cousin and we live together,” he informed him with a proud smirk. “M’names Dudley. You?”

“Benji O’Claw,” the boy told him shyly. “That’s my big brother over there with the Slytherins! He’s in sixth year now.”

“Slytherin!?” another first year boy exclaimed with a look of alarm.

“He’s cunning and clever,” Benji shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension. “He’s the reason I got to come to school! My Dad said I shouldn’t be allowed ‘cause I’m a useless little squib, but Rian tricked him for me. My mum was real proud of him for that! She was a Slytherin too, but she said she didn’t care where I ended up so long as I was happy.”

“I’m a mag-adj,” Dudley told him as he shovelled another forkful of pasta into his mouth. By Dumbledore’s beard, he was hungry. “And thinking squibs and mag-adjs are useless is stupid. I mean, we can use technology without it exploding! Wixen can’t do that, can they?”

“Technology? That’s muggle stuff innit?” The blonde girl from before asked. “Never really seen much of it myself ‘cause most of my family is pureblood. I want to take muggle studies in third year though.”

“Yeah it is, like my watch see!” Dudley showed her, pushing the backlight button on the right side to show her the time.

“Oh Merlin, that’s amazing,” she gasped as he pushed the opposite button to change the display, bringing up the alarm clock and timer functions. "It's so cool that it does all that without needing magic!

“Oh come off it Hannah,” the previously-alarmed boy rolled his eyes. “It’s not _that_ great. If he’d brought one of those auto-cars then maybe I’d be impressed, but it’s just a wristwatch! We have those too!”

“Ignore Ernie,” Hannah huffed with a disparaging look. “He’s just jealous.”

“Am not!” Ernie immediately protested.

“I’ve got one of those, but mine is the newest model,” yet another first year suddenly piped up from his seat on Ernie’s left. This boy had dark hair that was smoothed flat and parted neatly on one side despite the subtle curls clearly attempting to escape and disrupt it, and he was holding his cutlery in a way that Dudley somehow just immediately knew meant his family was posh. “I didn’t bring it to school though, because Professor Flitwick warned me it would break when he took mum and I to Diagon Alley for the first time. He said there _were_ enchantments I could use to protect it, but that I’d need to talk to someone with a NEWT in muggle studies to get the spells applied. I presume that’s what you did, or it would have died by now.”

“This is Justin Finch-Fletchley,” Ernie nodded towards him. “Met him on the train so I’m glad we both got Hufflepuff. He’s a muggleborn, first in his family.”

“And no siblings,” Justin added. “So I’ll be the _only_ muggleborn in my family unless one of my cousins ends up having a baby that’s magical. My cousins are all older than me see, so they would already be here if they were a witch or wizard.”

“Everyone I sat with seems to have ended up in Gryffindor,” Dudley shrugged in amusement. “I thought for sure Hermione would be a Ravenclaw, but she’s a lion too!”

“My mum said Gryffindors can be reckless and um, strong head-something,” Benji frowned in his lilting Irish accent. “But she said bad things are true about every house an’ I shouldn’t listen to stereotypes. Gotta make up my own mind and not judge people for their colours, she said.”

“Sounds like your mum should have been in Ravenclaw,” Hannah snorted. 

“She almost was!” Benji beamed, waving the chunk of chicken skewered on his fork around and dropping a kernel of sweetcorn into his lap. “Rian said she was a hat stall and it took the hat almost four whole minutes to decide!”

“Hey Dudley, how come _you_ were under the hat so long?” Justin asked with a curious expression. “You were up there forever!”

“It wanted to put me in Huffleclaw,” Dudley chuckled, reaching for the bowl of mash in front of Ernie. “Got quite mad that it couldn’t and I had to start begging it to just choose already!”

“Huffleclaw!?” Ernie exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous!”

* * *

“We got Duuuuursley!” 

Dudley whipped his head around and found himself looking up at a tall boy with bright pink hair that he was pretty sure was actually Tonks? The sentence had been sing-songed at him and the voice and clothes were the same as before but-?

“Your face has changed!” he spluttered as he clambered off the bench to stand between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. The rest of the students were also beginning to get up, the older ones vanishing out the main doors into the entrance hall and, presumably, to their dormitories beyond. “How’d you do that!?”

“I’m a Metamorphmagus kiddo, I can shape shift,” they told him, their nose and jaw altering smoothly to match what he’d seen back on the train.

“That’s _wicked!”_ Ron pronounced, materialising at Dudley’s side. Neville was with him, but a quick glance around told him that Harry and Hermione had already moved further away. Dudley grinned at them both and opened his mouth to introduce Benji to the pair, but Tonks interrupted him before he could. 

“Go on, away with you Weasley,” Tonks chuckled kindly. “Your brother’s trying to gather all you little lion firsties together so he can take you off up to your common room. Don’t want to get left behind, do you?”

“We’ll see you at breakfast yeah?” Neville asked quietly, glancing nervously around. Dudley just about managed to gabble an agreement before he and Ron were sliding away, leaving Dudley alone in the huddle of new Hufflepuffs.

“Right then baby badgers,” Tonks greeted them all as the hall continued to empty out. “We’ll just hang back a moment more to give everyone else a chance to clear out first, and then I’ll show you the way to our house rooms. Because our house mascot is a badger and it’s underground, you’ll hear a lot of the older Hufflepuffs refer to it as The Sett. Most of the other students and the majority of the staff will just call it the Hufflepuff basement though, so be aware that they all just mean our common room.”

“Do we have to do an induction?” Benji wondered with his eyes wide. “Rian said the Slytherins have to do a ritual!”

“Not tonight wee man,” Tonks reassured him with a pat on his head, almost knocking his tiny wixen hat off. “We’ll have a proper welcome party where you’ll learn some of our house traditions at the weekend, but for now we’ll stick to getting you to and from lessons and making sure you manage to eat on time okay?”

Benji nodded earnestly, and Dudley found himself glad his new friend had asked; he’d heard all sorts of weird initiation stories from Ron on the train. 

“Right then cubs, the entrance hall looks clear enough now. On we go!”

* * *

Down and down they went, at least another two floors lower than the Great Hall. The corridors they walked along were empty aside from two Ravenclaw sixth year girls making out beneath a disgruntled portrait of Sir Jorace the wise, whom Dudley recognised from one of McGonagall’s wixen history books. Tonks had encouraged them all to laugh at the embarrassed couple for getting caught and then sent the pair off to their own common room with cheerful forgiveness.

They didn’t see anyone else.

Eventually they entered a long, warm corridor that smelled of baking and only had a few pictures hung up on the walls. Tonks pointed at one of a fruit bowl and informed them that it hide the entrance to the kitchens – which explained the nice aromas filling the air – but they quickly moved passed it and turned into a cosy little nook that seemed to be filled almost entirely with giant smoke-cured oak barrels. 

They were able to move around behind the front row though once the gap had been pointed out to them, and they clustered together, confused. Dudley had no idea what was going to happen next as this was very obviously a complete dead end, and it seemed that no one else had any clue either.

“This is the entrance to The Sett,” Tonks thankfully spoke up once they’d all crowded in and the prefect had weaved their way through to the front of the group. “Unlike some of the other houses, there’s no rotating series of passwords for you to memorise or fancy riddles for you to solve. Here in Hufflepuff, we use some good solid knocking instead.”

They turned around then, angling their body so they could all see them raise a fist to one of the barrels.

“Two from the bottom, right in the middle of this second row,” Tonks carried on. “If you get the wrong barrel you’ll end up covered in vinegar okay? I don’t recommend it. Now you also have to knock in the right rhythm, but that’s the easy part. All you have to do is say _Helga Hufflepuff_ to yourself while you do it, one knock to each syllable and you’ll get it spot on! But if you get it wrong…?”

“Vinegar?” the girl next to Hannah guessed cautiously when Tonks looked around at them all entreatingly.

“Oh, so very much vinegar!” Tonks laughed evilly. “So, which one of you is going to try it out first?”

The new Hufflepuffs all murmured apprehensively and shuffled a little, but Dudley thought that Tonks didn’t seem like the type to trick them, especially not on their first day. And if he actually did end up vinegar soaked and miserable? Well, he and Harry were probably McGonagall’s favourites and he was _sure_ she’d get Tonks in lots of trouble if he told her they’d pulled a prank on him.

“I’ll do it!” he volunteered enthusiastically, having made his decision.

“Helga Hufflepuff,” they reminded him encouragingly as he reached out, demonstrating lightly on their own chest.

Carefully, he knocked five times. _Hel-ga Huf-fle-puff._

The front of the gigantic barrel rolled open, the lid sliding neatly in front of the one adjacent to it. Behind this, a short tunnel lined with smooth wooden planks was revealed, and at the far end, Dudley could see a warm yellow glow and what looked like lots of plush black sofas with yellow throws haphazardly draped over them. 

“Well in you go munchkins!”

Dudley was climbing up into the tunnel in an instant. 

He was right about the warmth when he clambered out the far end, Benji tumbling out gracelessly right behind him. The entire room was like a black and gold themed country cottage, full of squishy sofas and cushions and blankets, plants hanging from every wall and covering every shelf and display case. It seemed to be octagon shaped overall, with additional square rooms off of every diagonal side, but the ceilings were all rounded domes and archways, with the windows and doors perfect circles.

It all rather reminded Dudley of Hobbington if he was honest. 

“Welcome to Hufflepuff,” another prefect greeted them from in front of a giant roaring fireplace, a cauldron of something that smelled distinctly like chocolate bubbling away over it. This student looked like a wizard to Dudley (who was very quickly learning not to assume such things but he was going to have to go with his best guess for now) and he was perhaps younger than Tonks by maybe a year. “My name is Jamie Allister, and I’m one of the 5th year prefects. A few very quick House-specific rules and some information to share with you all,” he continued, “and then we can dish out your share of the traditional first night hot chocolate and show you all to your new rooms.”

“Hot chocolate?” Benji whispered excitedly from somewhere below Dudley’s shoulder. 

“Firstly you should know that all of the main Hogwarts school rules also apply to our common rooms and dormitory halls. They’re mostly common sense, but you will find a full list posted in your year wing so you can double check the specifics. To highlight the most important ones though: there will be no duelling in your dorms or any public school areas, bullying or fighting with anyone from any house or year is subject to a zero tolerance policy, You must wear your uniforms at all times during school hours and at week night evening meals, and you will do as asked, when asked by any prefect or member of staff straight away. As I am sure you’ve already learnt, breaking rules, being out after curfew, or skipping or being late to classes will result in loss of house points and detentions. 

“Breakfast will be available from seven until eight-thirty, and classes begin at nine sharp. You can leave the common room at any time after six in the morning, but you must be back here by nine in the evening. Those times will change as you move up through the years, but for now you _must_ obey first curfew bells, which you will magically be able to hear wherever you are in the castle or grounds. Everyone understand?”

Dudley found himself nodding along easily, agreeing that these rules all did seem rather straight forward. 

“Hufflepuff specific information!” Tonks cheered from behind them. “This is the main common room where you are welcome to bring any of your friends from other houses before curfew so long as you stay with them while they're here. All the books on the shelves have to stay in The Sett, though you can take them down to your rooms for three days before they’ll magic themselves back onto the shelves. Next up, you lot are expressly forbidden from touching the main fireplace or the cauldrons until you start fourth year; we’ll not be having any burnt fingers thank you! And finally from me, if we find out you’ve been unfairly talking shit about the other houses or other students, you’ll have a special Hufflepuff in-house detention; we value fairness and friendliness in this house.”

“There are three floors below us,” Jamie took back over, “with two or three dorm wings on each level. First, second, and third years are all on sub-one. Four, five, and prefects on sub-two, and the older NEWT years on sub-three. Each wing has it’s own small central communal space and kitchenette, along with your bedrooms and one big bathroom for you to use. It’ll be two people to a room and you can share with whoever you like and swap around as you please, but we expect you to sort out any arguments amongst yourselves. The prefects will always be available to moderate or intervene if you need them to, but please do try to talk out the problem yourselves first. Now,” he clapped his hands together with a big grin, “I think that’s enough for one night. Who wants a nice warm mug of chocolate before bed?”

* * *

Dudley was absolutely bloody knackered.

He suspected that the hot chocolate had actually been doctored with some kind of mild sleeping potion, because in the last ten minutes he’d gone from vibrating with excitement and curiosity to swaying on his feet. 

They were currently stood in the middle of the first year common space in their dorm wing having just been guided here by the two prefects, and warmth was spilling out of a small fireplace on the back wall while strings of magical fairy lights hung all across the ceiling. There was a couple of tiny tables with space for only two chairs each by the open-plan kitchenette area, and a single yellow two-person settee was pushed up against the wall next to the door with the copper bathroom sign pinned to it, but overall it was considerably more sparsely furnished than the main common room upstairs.

Properly, truly, _absolutely_ bloody knackered.

“Dudders?” Benji whispered nervously up at him as people began to pair off and move towards all the other doors on the outer walls. “Can we share? We can be unmagical together!”

“Yeah,” Dudley yawned happily. “Sounds great to me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benji Benji Benji BENJI BENJI!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, trying to keep everyone in character while also smoothing the problems out: *this is fine meme*

Dudley Dursley woke up on the morning of the first of September in a _very_ comfortable bed. 

Rolling over with a satisfied groan and burying his face further into his fantastically soft pillows, he contemplated staying wrapped up in the delicious warmth for ever more. 

The single person bed was a giant wooden four poster, with big thick black curtains trimmed in yellow hung on all four sides. The mattress was exactly the right balance of firm and soft, and the duvet and blankets were keeping him at precisely the right temperature while _also_ being spot on the right weight to make him feel cosy and safe. 

There were two such beds in their little Hufflepuff box room, both with their headboards pushed up against the back wall. A night stand stood at the head of each bed along the side nearest the door, such that they were facing each other, while in the opposite corner, a floor to ceiling black-laquered wardrobe could be found, placed such that drawing the furtherest bed-curtain right across would effectively create a barrier and afford the owner a small amount of privacy in which to get dressed. 

Two narrow desks with a couple of plain shelves set into the clean white-washed wall above, were the last items of furniture in the compact tidy room, placed at right angles to the other pieces and occupying the final free corners. 

The floor was laid with the same pale, smooth oak that the lower half of the walls were panelled with. A single fluffy round grey rug with the house crest felted into it was placed in front of the large round door that was centred opposite the two beds, but being underground there were no windows to allow natural light into the room. The space did not feel dark or oppressive though, as the same glittering strings of glowing yellow fairy lights found everywhere else in The Sett were twined across the ceiling and all round the top of the beds and wardrobes.

As Benji’s old fashioned charmed wixen silver alarm clock continued to ring loudly on his bedside table, these lights gently warmed from a peaceful low glow to a summer bright sunshine brilliance. Stretching with a big yawn, Dudley smiled through the gap he had left in curtains, watching as Benji rolled out of bed looking like the world’s most befuddled mouse.

Or perhaps a hedgehog would be a more apt comparison, given the state of his hair.

“Teeth,” Benji mumbled almost-nonsensically as he slapped the top of his alarm clock and shut off the ringing. “Teeth teeth teeth. Toothbrush!”

Reaching out to pull the left curtain more open, Dudley sat up in bed and rubbed at his gritty eyes. Picking his watch up and fumbling with the strap, he bleary inspected the time, glad to see it was just before seven and not even earlier. 

“Toothbrush!” Benji declared triumphantly as he stood over his open trunk, indeed holding up the named item. Both their trunks were shoved haphazardly against the end of their beds, as they’d decided last night that unpacking could wait until today; instead they’d just tiredly pulled out their pyjamas and clocks and crawled straight under the covers. 

“Gimme a min, I’ll come with you,” Dudley grumbled as he finally folded back his duvet and top-blanket to swing his legs out. The oak floor was warm under his bare feet as he padded over to his own trunk and propped the lid up. His wash kit was fairly near top as it had been one of the last things he’d packed yesterday morning, so it was easy to grab the small lime green waterproof bag and the blue towel folded directly beneath it. 

And then it was off to the bathroom. 

Hannah and the black girl who’s name he still hadn’t learnt yet were already sat at one of the tables with glasses of water when he and Benji ambled out. Just like the two boys, they were still in their pyjamas; Hannah was busy having her long blonde hair plaited neatly, but they both waved an enthusiastic good morning to them anyway. Dudley gestured back more half-heartedly as he really was not a morning person, while Benji was too busy trying to keep his eyes open and walk in a straight line to notice the girls at all. 

And then they were trudging into the first year Hufflepuff bathroom. 

He hadn’t really been paying attention last night being as tired as he was, but now that he was feeling a little more alert, Dudley took it’s emptiness as an opportunity to nosily look around. A long row of white sinks and shiny brass taps ran down most of the nearside wall on the left side, while white tiling lined all of the room. A single black line of tiles was placed at adult head height, and when he looked closer, he noticed it was flecked with tiny bits of gold leaf. 

Or given that it was Hogwarts, it was equally likely that it was just actual nuggets of gold.

One long continuous mirror was stuck above the sinks, and against the opposite wall was a tall set of wide shelves filled with all manner of useful bathroom items; fresh clean towels, spare bars of soap and hair potions, a wicker basket filled with new pumice stones, and so on. While he’d brought all his own muggle shampoos and stuff to school with him, Dudley thought it would be nice to try some of the wixen ones on offer.

The other half of the room was filled with floor to ceiling cubicles, with three normal tall wooden doors set into the end wall beyond these. As Dudley wandered down between them, he discovered that all the ones on the right were toilets while the left hand longer ones were shower cubicles complete with enclosed changing rooms. The three end doors each led into a separate small room; two with moderately sized claw-foot bathtubs, and the third containing some kind of little square foot bath, a short wooden three-legged stool, and a bigger, wider sink. 

Stumbling back to where Benji was now peering sleepily at his reflection (though he was almost too short to see, bless him), Dudley dropped his bag and towel on the wooden bench that sat between the sinks and the shelves, and then reached out to twist one of the cold taps on. 

A few splashes of water to the face later, and he felt like he might finally be starting to resemble a functional human being again.

* * *

“Our uniforms changed over night!” Benji squeaked in excitement once they’d plodded back to their room, greeting the girls on their back way past much more coherently than before. They’d also said hello to Ernie and Justin, who’d shuffled out of the room they’d chosen just as they exited the bathroom.

 _“Awesome!”_ Dudley grinned as he scrambled to pull his own school clothes back out of his trunk. Where they’d been fully black and white yesterday, both parts of their robes where now lined with silky yellow material, their cravats had changed to match, and a stripe had appeared down either leg of their white trousers. When he hooked them out from under his bed, Dudley discovered that there was a yellow stripe running horizontally along the cuff of his boots too.

Digging further into his trunk, he was pleased to note that all his winter gear such as his school scarf and hat where also proudly sporting his house colours and crest now. 

“Your clothes are so tiny,” Dudley giggled as he held his outer robe up next to Benji’s to compare. 

“That’s ‘cause I’m a midget,” Benji smirked, clearly entirely unbothered by his short stature.

* * *

They had crawled out of the oak barrel tunnel at about quarter past seven, with the other two first year boys, Wayne Hopkins and Zacharias Smith leading the way. Zach had claimed that he had memorised the way to and from the Great Hall yesterday evening, a claim which thankfully turned out to be true when they found themselves walking out of one of the under-stairs archways into the main entrance hall. 

The smell of bacon and sugar enticed them all into the Great Hall at that point, wherein Wayne and Zach promptly scurried off to sit at what was nominally the Ravenclaw table. Dudley glanced around and realised that only a very small handful of the Gryffindors had made it to breakfast so far, and that the ones that had were all bigger and older than Harry, so he allowed Benji to drag him over to a group of big students sat near the head staff table.

“Hey shrimp!” a lanky wizard in green greeted Benji with a rough ruffle of his hair. He was much taller than Benji, but had the same thin face, silver-blue eyes, and almost-black hair, so this was clearly his older brother Rian “Sleep alright?”

“So good,” Benji moaned with a blissful look, swinging his arms loosely in front of him. 

_“That’s_ your brother!?” another Slytherin snorted around a mouthful of toast. “He’s barely even snack size! Look at him, he’s a runt!”

“Piss off Shafiq,” Rian snapped back at her, obviously unamused. “You ignore her bubs, and let me know if anyone else tries picking on you yeah?”

Benji nodded fervently.

“Who’s your friend then?”

“This is Dudley! He’s Harry Potter’s cousin and we’re sharing a dorm room!”

“Harry Potter huh?” Rian smirked indulgently. And then turning to Dudley himself, “I see you’ve got a ward-ring kid, so as long as you stick with my brother I’ll watch your back too. I don’t care what anyone says, you earned your places at Hogwarts fair and square. Keep your chins up and don’t take any shit okay, especially not from the snakelets. I’ll kick them in the nuts for you if I have to, house pride or no. Got it?”

“Um, yes sir, thank you sir,” Dudley stuttered.

“My name’s Rian kid, I ain’t a Professor. Or O’Claw if you must. Now get, the both of you. Go find some folks your own age to sit with and bother.”

“Bye Rian!” Benji bounced, quickly throwing his arms around Rian’s back in an awkward half-hug. 

“Go! I’ll bring your post over later when it arrives.”

Dudley grabbed his friend and pulled him away before his face could heat any further.

* * *

They’d been joined once again by Hannah and started in on some cereal by the time Harry clambered onto the bench with them. Ron was with him, as well as Hermione and Neville, all four of them now with bright red and gold accents and stripes of their uniforms. 

“I’m so bloody hungry,” Ron moaned as he slid into the free space next to Hannah and immediately started grabbing hash browns. “How was ‘ufflepu’?” he mangled around a mouthful. “Gw’iff’indo’s aweso’e, s’in a big ‘ower!”

“Oh please don’t talk with your mouthful Ronald,” Hermione sighed, reaching much more politely for a bowl of plain yogurt. 

Dudley snorted in amusement.

“Hannah Abbot,” Hannah introduced herself, offering her hand to Neville opposite her. This set off the expected round of introductions, and soon it was established that Dudley and Benji were the only non-wixens among the gathered group. Dudley wasn’t bothered; he knew he’d meet more people like him once they started their classes. Besides, wixens weren’t any better or worse than squibs or adj-mags anyway, so why did it matter?

“I wonder when we’ll get our timetables?” Hermione grinned eagerly once they’d all settled back into eating (not that Ron had ever stopped…).

“Professor McGonagall will bring ours over soon,” Harry told her as he topped his glass of orange juice back up. “And Professor, um? Sprout? She’ll have the Hufflepuff’s.”

“How do you know all this?” Hermione huffed with a slight tinge of jealousy. “You said you grew up with muggles, and yet you know loads of Hogwarts stuff!”

“Yeah we did, but we’ve known Harry was a wizard for like, well, _ever,”_ Dudley informed her, shrugging. “McGonagall and Mr Al- I mean Professor Dumbledore have been coming to our house to teach us stuff all our lives.”

“You got private tutoring from Professor Dumbledore!?” Hermione gasped with blatant envy, Hannah’s eye’s going similarly wide with astonishment. “Harry! Why didn’t you say last night! Or on the train!”

“Didn’t think it was important,” Harry shrugged back. “Ron and Neville still know more wixen stuff than Duds and I do, and Professor McGonagall did most of the teaching, not Dumbledore. Albus would just show up randomly and make tea and stuff.”

“Ugh,” Hermione groaned, her head tilted back. “You’re both going to be so far ahead of us all in all of our classess!”

“I’m sure you’ll catch up fine,” Ron snorted. “What with all the reading you’ve done. I’ve barely even looked at my books, so if anyone’s gonna be behind, it’ll be me!”

“Good morning children!” A bubbly voice suddenly said right behind Dudley, making both he and Benji jump in surprise. When they turned in their seats, a short round witch with grey curly hair and a very tall pointy hat was beaming down at them. “I’m glad to see you’re all making friends already!”

“Morning Professor!” Hannah greeted happily back.

“I’m Professor Sprout, the Head of Hufflepuff,” she smiled at them all. “I’ll be seeing you all in my greenhouses every week for Herbology for at least the next five years all being well, so I’m sure I’ll get to know all your names and faces soon. For now though, I have timetables for those of you in my house. Here we go.”

Dudley took the thick sheet of parchment he was handed and pushed his plate aside to spread it out flat on the table. There were a _lot_ of lessons, many of them double periods.

“Defence and Theory with Professor Quirrel first,” he read off, noticing that Hermione was trying to lean over the table to look too. “It says that one’s an adj-class. Then double Potions with all the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Lunch, and then um, Charmed Objects? With Flitwick?”

“That’s what you get to do instead of charms,” Hermione immediately explained for him. “You can’t do the charms yourself, but you can use things that already have spells on them. Or combine them together to see what they do, learn about how they interact. Or take the objects apart and reassemble them to see if the spell gets changed, or-”

“Yeah, a lot of cool stuff,” Ron interrupted her with a friendly nudge. “Look McGonagall’s coming with ours I think.”

“Oh I can’t wait!” Hermione practically squealed.

* * *

Mag-adj Defence had ended up being pretty boring.

The first year mag-adj students made up quite a small class; there were only eleven of them despite the fact it was all four houses combined together. Dudley and Benji from Hufflepuff, three students from Gryffindor, _five_ Ravenclaws, and just Timothy Zarr from Syltherin (who looked like he’d had a really rough morning already, with the way his cravat and shirt tails were untucked and his hair was a right a mess). 

All they’d done for the full hour in Defence was take introductory notes as Quirrel rambled on and try not to pull faces at the overwhelming stench of garlic. Dudley had been glad to escape the classroom and even gladder to know he didn’t have to go back until Thursday afternoon. 

At least they hadn’t been given any homework yet.

He and Benji were now with the five Ravenclaws trying to find their way to the dungeons, where the potions laboratories apparently were. They’d stopped in the fifth floor west corridor to ask a group of older Gryffindor students for directions and had managed to get back to the top of the grand staircase in the entrance hall, but now they were stumped again.

“I believe we should try going through there,” one of the squib Ravenclaw girls – Helena Sparks – suggested, pointing at the small door next to the hourglasses below them. “I’m sure that’s where all the Slytherins went last night and their common room is in the dungeons, isn’t it?”

“The worst that could happen is we get lost and have to ask someone else for more directions,” Li Na Xiāo nodded in agreement. “And as we’re all in a group, it should be pretty obvious it was an accident if do end up late.”

“Then let’s go for it,” Helena decided for the group, already bounding away down the steps. 

“Jump over the third step from bottom,” Benji whispered to him as they hurried to keep up with the others. “It’s magic and not really there. Rian told me about it.”

* * *

Potions was. 

Potions was-

Well, Dudley didn’t particularly think he was being too harsh when he said that Professor Snape could go _die in a hole_

Somehow the Professor had known exactly who Dudley was as soon as he and the other maj-adjs had walked in through the open classroom doorway. The wixen Hufflepuffs were already inside and seated, while the other Ravenclaws had not yet arrived. But even with only half an audience, Snape had immediately starting loudly insinuating that he and Harry were arrogant fame-loving wannabe-celebrities. 

Dudley was mortified.

And very angry on Harry’s behalf. 

He was pretty sure that his cousin and the other Gryffindors didn’t have potions until later in the week, but he would definitely be warning them all about what was in store for them. Snape was a _horrible_ person. 

If only Dudley had felt brave enough to answer back or do anything other than silently frown and take it.

The actual potion brewing wasn’t too bad once they started the practical section of the lesson after mid-morning break. Dudley had paired up with a Ravenclaw wixen by the name of Anthony Goldstein, as classroom rules dictated that mag-adjs could not work together for explosion-related safety reasons until they were more experienced. He’d been pleased to discover though, that though Goldstein was quiet, he was also very competent; this obviously wasn’t his first time brewing.

“Half-blood, my mum’s a muggleborn, and my father almost-pure” he told Dudley when he asked as they carefully chopped some newts eyeballs in half. “So I’ve been allowed to do some basic potion brewing at home. You’re Mr Potter’s cousin, are you not?”

“Yeah, he came to live with me and my parents when he was a baby.”

“Yes, due to the famous Halloween events I should imagine.”

“Harry doesn’t like to talk about it so we don’t,” Dudley shrugged as their timer chimed and he turned to stir their cauldron thrice anticlockwise. Their potion shimmered to a nice turquoise colour as expected, but he was pretty sure it should be slightly darker that that. 

It was close enough, he decided, turning back to his slicing.

“Fair,” Anthony hummed agreeably. “Though I must ask; if you lived in a muggle household growing up, how is it that you already seem to know the potions basics as well as I do?”

“Pretty sure you’re better at this than me actually,” Dudley grimaced as he cut another eyeball unevenly. “Harry and I had wixen tutoring on Saturdays, and sometimes we got to do some potions. Just really basic stuff, ‘cause we had to do the practical part quietly in the back garden behind a small temporary anti-muggle ward. But we learnt some of the first year theory too, so this wart potion’s familiar enough.”

“Well I am lucky to have you as my brewing partner then Dursley. We should continue this arrangement in the future, if you are amenable?”

“You can call me Dudley or Duds,” he grinned back.

Now if only he could get Snape to stop being evil. Then potions might even turn out to be survivable!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Handwritten [notes](https://insane-sociopath.tumblr.com/post/643570870258991104/sneak-preview-of-my-harry-potter-fic-notes) for this fic, including a table of all the mag-adjs, Dudley's timetable, a list of all the subjects, and some dodgy floorplans. I plan on digitising all of this and adding it as an appendix on ao3 eventually, but in the mean time you'll have to squint at a photo of a piece of paper...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexej is pronounced _A-lehk-say_
> 
> More classes!

Their first day of classes ended with a considerably more conservative meal than the welcome feast of the night before; there were only four main course options available now, and no fancy starters or appetizers mixed in. 

Once again surrounded by his Hufflepuff peers, Dudley was listening as everyone else shared their thoughts on their various classes. He was quite amused to find that they all had exactly the same opinion on one thing in particular. Namely that Professor Snape was the absolute _worst._

“Maybe he’s just having a bad day?” Justin suggested tentatively as he pushed his seafood paella around his bowl in circles.

“I’m pretty sure he’s always like that,” Susan Bones grumbled. Dudley had finally learned her name, and thus was quite relieved that he at least now knew every first year in his house. “I heard those Weasley twins calling him the “bloody great bat” at lunchtime.”

“He gave us homework on the first day,” Benji moaned, once again waving his fork around in the air. This time there was slice of cucumber stuck to the tines, but so far he had managed to avoid dropping anything in his lap. Dudley had a feeling he was prone to doing that. 

“At least it’s only three inches of homework?” Ernie tried. 

“Three more than we ought to have,” Susan grumbled again. 

“Seriously though, why inches?” Justin repeated morosely. He’d been asking that same question constantly since they’d finally escaped the dungeon laboratories. “That’s a stupid standard! What if Dudley has handwriting twice as big as mine and therefore only has to do half the work to fill the length! Or what if my parchment sheet is twice as wide!”

“Well how do muggles do it then?” Zach scoffed. “Even they have different handwriting, so it can’t be that much better.”

“Word count,” Justin informed him with a scowl. “Everyone has to write between a set number of words. So everyone has to do the same.”

“We just used number of pages at primary school,” Dudley contradicted as he reached for the big jug of water; he’d decided that pumpkin juice was properly _gross_ and that even boring water was a better choice. “Like in books, ‘cept we did like, half a page or a full page and so on. Actually that jus’ like wixen inches I guess?”

“If we were allowed to write in parchment booklets rather than just on sheets and scrolls, then I guess I’d accept that as a suitable compromise,” Justin sighed. “At least then the _width_ would be confined. But honestly, inches are _stupid.”_

“Are we going to do the homework tonight then, get it out of the way?” Hannah asked loudly before Zach could snap out yet another retort.

“Nah,” Wayne drawled from the end of their table. “Not due until Friday and I bet we don’t get any other homework until at least Thursday. Let’s have this first night off and go exploring instead!”

“Sounds good to me,” Dudley grinned before anyone else could object.

* * *

Zach had scoffed and called them Raven-nerds, but they decided that the first place they should hunt down (once they’d changed out of their uniforms) was the library. This led to Zach running off with Wayne in tow before they’d even gotten back to their common room, Zach testily declaring he no longer wanted to hang-out with the rest of them tonight. 

Dudley couldn’t say he minded all that much; he knew Hufflepuff had an internal-house rule about being friendly and tolerant, especially to your housemates, but Zach was already stretching his admittedly-limited patience. 

He and Benji had actually already gone exploring for a little bit that afternoon before dinner. They hadn’t gotten to go very far, barely getting out of the main front gates just passed the courtyard square before they’d managed to run into Ron and Harry. Hermione had apparently gone back to the library again despite having already dragged the Gryffindor boys there at lunch, so they’d all left her to it and gone off on their own.

Ron had then dictated their afternoon activities by declaring that they absolutely _must_ go look at the quidditch stadium and then go for a walk to the edge of forbidden forest via the great lake. He’d been utterly adamant there was giant squid or something in the water, though Dudley had been sceptical.

 _(There is!_ Harry had agreed, _there’s a page about it in Hogwarts: a History!)_

(They had not seen a giant squid or indeed any other magic creatures at all, much to everyone’s vast disappointment)

So some further exploration time was welcome.

Armed with a list of interesting places Benji had puppy-eyed out of some fifth years in the main common room, they set off into the castle. The list said the library was on the first floor of the west wing, but could also be accessed from the near end of the third floor north wing. The latter was apparently closed off this year, much to many students’ annoyance, but the main first floor entrance was closer to The Sett anyway.

So it only took them about five minutes to reach the library and truly begin their evening adventure.

* * *

They had Wixen Arts first thing the next morning, which turned out to be like a combination of muggle music lesson and muggle art classes with a magical twist. This first term they would be looking at historic paintings and then creating their own oil canvases that their teacher would later enchant to life for them. The rest of the year would involve taking up a musical instrument of their choice followed by a term of wixen photography. 

To Dudley’s surprise, Hermione didn’t seem that bothered by the subject’s absence from the wixen core learning list, while _Ron_ was the one who complained about only being able to take it as an extra curricular. The red-headed Gryffindor was then even more upset when he learnt it was only available as an after-class club to third years and above!

Dudley found he didn’t care one way or the other about it personally. It was only an hour a week, and he’d never been particularly artistic or musically inclined. But it was also a pretty easy class that came with almost no academic expectations. And Benji seemed to like it, even though all they’d done so far was go over the curriculum and discuss basic colour theory.

* * *

“Does he ever stop bouncing?” Timothy Zarr scowled at Benji as the group of mag-adjs waited in the technology hall for their first Muggle Technomancy class. The Slytherin squib was once again ruffled and untidy, and the strap of his dragon hide book bag seemed to have been torn and sloppily stuck back together with spellotape since yesterday. 

“Why would he need to stop?” Ravenclaw Daniel Snow growled at him before Dudley could say something first. 

“Did I say he had to?” Zarr immediately snapped back defensively.

“Implied it pretty strongly, you git.” 

“Alright you two,” Dudley stomped his foot. “You can _both_ stop being gits. Benji can bounce if he likes, but you should leave off Zarr, Snow.”

“Slimy little snake,” Snow mumbled bitterly under his breath as he turned around and stomped back over to Emil Scaler, an even-tempered Gryffindor that he seemed to have befriended.

“Ignore him, he’s not worth it,” Dudley put his arm in front of Zarr before the Slytherin could physically pounce on the Ravenclaw. He actually thought Snow _could_ do with a good kicking as retribution for his insult, but right outside a classroom immediately before a lesson was due to start was a dumb place to do it.

“This whole place is stupid and not worth it,” Zarr hissed, shoving himself away. 

Dudley frowned, beginning to have suspicions about how the other Slytherins first years were treating Zarr when the rest of the mag-adj weren’t around, but before he could consider the idea any further, the door to the classroom finally swung open and the crowd of girls pushed their way inside eagerly, pulling all the boys in with them. 

The classroom doubled as the Muggle Studies classroom for the wixen students, so to Dudley it looked exactly like the physics labs he’d seen at Smeltings Academy when his dad had insisted on taking him to an open day, hoping to tempt him away from choosing Hogwarts. 

There were four long wooden benches with electric plug sockets at regular intervals all facing a large whiteboard that looked brand new. A smaller table with two old computer monitors and a cathode ray TV was placed at a tangent to the main benches, and next to that were dozens of shelves and display cases holding all manner of electronics and bits of wiring. 

To Dudley’s amusement, both Benji and Zarr immediately beelined over to the computers with matching expressions of total fascination. 

“Good morning class!” the dark-haired and bearded teacher greeted them from the desk at the front of the room. “I’m Professor Sikander, and if you could all choose seats towards the front please, that would be excellent.”

Benji zipped straight back to Dudley’s side as they all scrambled to claim stools, and the two boys ended up sat at the far right end of the front row. Surprisingly though, Zarr cautiously eyed them both and silently slipped onto the stool to Benji’s left.

“Right then!” Professor Sikander continued once they were all settled. “Welcome to Muggle Technomancy! As you may have heard, this is a magical-adjacent specialist course. For the first couple of years, there’ll be a lot of cross-over with certain parts of the wixen Muggle Studies curriculum, though we won’t touch at all upon any of the history or wider cultural side of that course. This is to make sure that those of you from entirely wixen families and backgrounds get to be on an even keel with the mag-adjs among you. But don’t worry if you're from a muggle household, it’ll just seem like secondary school science classes to you, so you’ll be learning new things as well. First though, can anyone tell me what technomancy actually is?”

“It’s the combination of muggle technology with magic sir!” one of the two Gryffindor squibs answered with a grin when her raised hand had been selected. “We’re gonna learn how the two interact and how to build the muggle cir-cu-its in a way that our wixen brethren can then charm them so it all works in magic saturated places!”

“Excellent answer Miss…?”

“Hopkins sir, Grace Hopkins.”

“Five points to Gryffindor Miss Hopkins. As I said, we’ll spend our first two years learning the basics of how muggle technology works and what it does, and then we’ll start working on how to modify all the wiring and circuit boards inside of it so that they accept magical currents too. Once you start your OWL years, you’ll find that we have to do lots of experimenting which I’m sure you’ll all find very interesting and engaging. As a final note before I start handing out the curriculum for this term, I’m warning you all to pay attention in your runes and spell theory classes and take them seriously, as you’ll need that knowledge to be able to do the work here from your third year onwards. Any questions?”

* * *

“That was _wicked!”_ Dudley breathed excitedly as they all left the classroom two hours later. He was abstractly aware that he had already started mimicking Benji and Ron’s wixen speech patterns, but well, _wicked_ was just such a good word. 

“I never knew muggles built so much cool stuff!” Benji nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe they went to the moon! That’s _awesome!”_

“I’m going to make Harry take Wixen Technomancy in his third year so we can build stuff together,” Dudley grinned eagerly as they headed to the Great Hall for lunch. “I can wire my PlayStation to accept magic, and then Harry can charm it so we can play video games here at school!”

“What’s a video game?” 

“It’s like, um. Do you what TVs do yet?”

Benji shook his, but didn’t seem perturbed by his lack of knowledge.

“Well you know how there’s wixen radios? The wizarding-wireless? Well TVs are like that, but they show images as well as sound. And the pictures all move like they do in wixen photos. Actually it’s like watching an entire play at the theatre I guess, except instead of going to the actual theatre, you can watch it all in a photograph while still hearing all the words being said.”

“Ugh, why do so many purebloods think muggles are idiots,” Benji moaned. “They’re not thick and useless at all, are they!?”

“They’re really not,” Dudley chuckled. “But well, video games... They let you interact with the images on the TV. You have a special handheld controller and you can make the person on the screen run around and solve puzzles and things.”

“I have _got_ to try that,” Benji gasped as they jumped over the illusion of the third step together and turned towards the Great Hall doors. 

“I know it’s ages away yet, but you should come to mine and Harry’s in the summer. You can play with my games and I can take you to the cinema and stuff!”

“My dad won’t like that, but my Mum and Rian will bully him into letting me go anyway I bet! Thanks Duds, that would great!”

“Guys, guys over here!” Hannah waved to them from one of the tables where she was sat eating with Susan, Hermione and Neville. “Come on, you _have_ to come and tell us what Technomancy was like!”

“Well…” Benji started, as he and Dudley glanced gleefully at each other.

* * *

Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon was one of their weirdest classes yet. This was not because of the subject’s content, but because they were in the same class as some of the third year wixens. Unlike the older students though, who had several more, they only had one period of it a week. They were also going to be set slightly different homework tasks and weren’t going to be expected to ask or answer as many questions, but it still seemed like it would be harder than the other subjects they’d started that week.

Awkward, is how how Dudley would describe it one they finished at half-two. Though that was largely down to the fact that it was actually a Gryffindor-Slytherin class and the two groups had been in full-on rival mode the entire time. 

Dudley had just huddled back out of the way with the other four first year mag-adjs and hoped to remain unnoticed.

* * *

Herbology was their last lesson of the day, another shared with the Gryffindors. Thankfully it was all first years again, and instead of Slytherins, the rest of Hufflepuffs would be joining them. Dudley was quite looking forward to it actually, if only because Neville had sounded so enthusiastic about it at lunch. 

As they’d already been outside for Creature Care, the group of five mag-adjs were the first to arrive at Greenhouse One. Grace Hopkins and Bealey Joy wandered off down the side of the glass building to go admire some flower beds once they’d found the greenhouse entrance, leaving Dudley and Benji alone with Emil Scaler.

“So you’re erm, from the continent then?” Benji asked the tanned boy with angular features just as the silence between them had begun to stretch on just a tad too long. 

“Yes,” he nodded with a very thick accent. “I am from Slovakia. I have two sisters,” he held up two fingers, “and one younger brother. My sisters already attend the Durmstrang Institute, and my brother vill start there in three years. I vas not allowed to go myself though, as they do not accept the squibz like you and I. Father vas very angry about zis and so he and mother petitioned Dumblee-dore to allow me to attend here instead. It is good so far, and my mother and father are very proud that I shall be first Slovakian squib with full magical education.”

“Durmstrang?” Dudley queried.

“It is an-nother magical school in Scandinavia,” Scaler explained. “Very different from the Hogwarts, but very good. I begin to think Hogwarts is better though, so I may ask father to consider sending little Alexej here also when he earns his vand and magestaff. There is more subject here, and less Dark Arts, which Mother approves of. Father is very traditional about education though, so perhaps not.”

“My dad thinks Dark Arts should be taught here too,” Benji mumbled, looking down at his feet. “But he also thinks you-know-who was right, so mum says I should ignore what he thinks.”

“I find it very funny how all British and Irish will not say the name of Voldemort,” Scaler chuckled. “There is no magic taboo on the word, it is not bad luck or a cursed word. It is just a name!”

“Harry thinks it’s stupid too,” Dudley grinned back. “There he is now actually, just coming out of the courtyard! You can ask him about it if you want.”

“Yes, we are both Gryffindor, house of brave,” Scaler chuckled again. “Ve tease Ronald with the name Voldemort when we go to bed, it is very funny. Neville and Seamus say we are mean, but it is only joke. We vill stop if he gets actual upset.”

“Oh good afternoon boys! Are the other’s coming?” Professor Sprout suddenly welcomed them as she slid open the greenhouse door behind them and peered out. 

“Yes Professor,” Benji quickly told her, pointing up the hill at the yellow and red clad crowd walking quickly down towards them. “And Hopkins and Joy are just over there!”

“Marvellous!” she beamed cheerfully. “Come on inside then! Lots to learn!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda hate writing accents as a mash of missing letters and misspelt words, but needs must.  
> That said, don't forget Benji is Irish just because I type his dialogue out properly XD


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter I have posted today. If you are subscribed to this work, you may need to go back a chapter

The rest of the week passed quickly, and before Dudley knew it, he was walking out his last class on Friday afternoon. 

Because the first of September had been a Tuesday, there was still a couple of classes that hadn’t come up on his timetable yet. But he also hadn’t had History of Magic either this week, as for some still-unknown reason, that class had been cancelled for everyone since Wednesday afternoon. As it was the first week, they’d been gifted free periods instead, which was nice.

(There was a rumour going round that the teacher that taught the subject, Professor Binns, had gotten lost somewhere in the restricted section library stacks and had subsequently been swallowed whole by an ancient ghost-eating book of evil. The rest of the staff were apparently still trying to work out which one and had yet to free him. Dudley was happy to spread this rumour further without believing it himself.)

But plenty of classes _had_ been attended. 

He and Benji had survived another gruelling double period of Potions, started learning about atoms and elements in Muggle Tech, and climbed all the way up to the Astronomy Tower twice this week now. The second charms class had been introductory theory to levitating devices, Defence involved labelling a moving diagram of a banshee, and Ancient Runes and Spell Theory had been, well, very theoretical.

Oh, and the two of them had acquired a silent, brooding tag along that glared at anyone who tried to speak to him. Zarr didn’t follow them to lunch and always disappeared as soon as lessons were over, but he seemed to be lurking nearby the rest of the time.

All in all, Dudley was now very much ready for a good long weekend, please and thank you.

* * *

“Zarr’s following us!” Benji whispered to him as they climbed onto the moving staircase that had just arrived. 

They were headed down to the library, where they’d agreed to meet Harry and the Gryffindors once lessons where done with for the day. Ron had whined a bit about having to do homework on a Friday afternoon, but even he had agreed that Hermione’s plan to get it all over and done with so that they had the entire weekend free was a good one.

“He’s probably just going down to the Slytherin dungeons,” Dudley shrugged. “They’re in this direction too.”

“But he’s being sneaky and he keeps trying to hide when I turn to look at him!”

Dudley rolled his eyes and paused on the landing they’d just reached. 

“Oi! Zarr! Come ‘ere!”

The scowling Slytherin stopped dead halfway down the stairs and stared at them like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Dude, come on,” Dudley huffed impatiently. “We don’t bite, you can walk _with_ us instead of ten foot behind us.”

“Why would I want to walk with you?” Zarr grumbled lowly once he started moving again. But there was no heat in his tone; it was more like he was saying the words out of habit. 

“Because we’re currently going in the same direction and we have most of our classes together?”

“Whatever,” Zarr mumbled as he stepped off the bottom of the staircase. Dudley silently rolled his eyes again, but was pleased when the other boy quietly fell into step with him on his left side.

* * *

“You’re so lucky that you don’t have to do Transfiguration,” Ron sighed as he reluctantly pulled another book closer to himself. 

_“You_ don’t have to do spell theory,” Dudley smirked back. “So I’d say you’re the lucky one.” 

“Mate, we have to do spell theory in every single one of our wixen classes,” Ron grumbled. 

“Not an entire class dedicated solely to it though,” Benji giggled. “And you actually know what McGonagall is on about when she says _feel the magic coalesce within you._ That was proper awkward when she said that this afternoon! To a room full of squibs and muggles!”

“Yeah,” Dudley sniggered. “She didn’t even apologise, just cleared her throat and started talking about energy movement diagrams instead! Felt kinda bad for her actually, cause we all started laughing.”

“Well Spell Theory _has_ only been a class for four years now, as it was only added to your curriculum once it became clear that a basic grounding in magical energy theorems would help immensely with your Technomancy lessons,” Hermione informed them. “Zarr, could you pass me that copy of standard book of spells please?”

Their silent lurking Slytherin pushed it across the library study table without comment and without looking up. Dudley was impressed that the boy had managed to overcome his reluctance and actually join them, so he bit back the laugh trying to bubble up in his throat; it wouldn’t do to scare him away now he’d finally given in and sat with them. 

(He was also quite impressed that all Ron had done upon seeing him was frown and proceed to ignore him. Ron had a bit of a problem with Slytherins thanks to Malfoy and his goons. Which was understandable but made things awkward whenever Rian O’Claw popped over at breakfast to hand over Benji’s letters and parcels.)

“How do you just know stuff like that ‘mione,” Hannah sighed, looking at her fellow witch wistfully. “Wait, don’t tell me, you read it in a book?”

“Books don’t lie,” Hermione smirked, before pausing. “Well the ones written by decent, sensible people don’t,” she conceded. “I found an old almanac about upcoming Muggle holidays and celebrations yesterday and it was full of nonsense! Muggles don’t _eat_ their pets on Halloween! And they _don’t_ publicly stab celebrities to death every year on the 15th of March!”

“Actually speaking of pets, that reminds me,” Dudley hummed. “I need to work out how to send a letter to mum and dad without using Hercules.”

“Tell them hi from me,” Harry snorted, wrestling with the lid on his ink well. “That ought to ruin their week nicely.” 

“No point writing it at all if I can’t work out how to get some stamps and find a postbox. Dad might actually kill poor little Herc’ if he shows up after I promised not to send him with post. Oh, Harry also. Professor McGonagall told me after Spell Theory that we have to go see her for afternoon tea tomorrow. Same time as she used to come to our house.”

“Hagrid invited us all to visit him this weekend as well,” Harry nodded. “So we could do that first and then go find McGonagall?”

“How long until dinner?” Ron sighed. “I’m bloody _starving!”_

* * *

Dropping his book bag and small stack of library books on his desk, Dudley sighed happily and contemplated dropping face first onto his bed. 

He and Benji had just come back to their dorm to drop their stuff off before heading to the Great Hall, but he didn’t know if he could be bothered to climb all the way back up to the ground floor now, even if it _was_ for food. At least they weren’t Gryffindors, who apparently had to climb all the way up to the seventh floor just to get to the _base_ of their tower. Or Ravenclaws who had basically the same problem but started two floors lower. 

“They should have lifts in this place,” Dudley grumbled mildly as he tugged his outer robe off and threw it over the back of his desk chair. “Mum’s gonna complain about me losing weight again when I go home for Christmas. Not that I think loosing some more would be a bad thing, but still. So many stairs!”

“They have lifts in the Ministry for Magic,” Benji told him as he also dumped his school bag and reached up to re-stick the corner of his Quadpot poster to the wall. “I had to go there when mum and dad realised I was probably a squib. They make you tests and stuff and then put you on a register.”

“Well that sounds dodgy,” Dudley grimaced, thinking about what he had learnt about World War II in primary school. He was pretty sure there’d been lists of “different” people then too, and he _knew_ that hadn’t ended well for anyone. 

“Mum didn’t want my name on the list, but it’s against the law not to. And ‘sides, it lead to me getting to come be a mag-adj here at school, so it wasn’t _all_ bad.”

“Still, when Hermione is Minster for Magic, I’m gonna make her get rid of that list,” Dudley declared as he searched for his wizard hat – they had to wear them to dinner on Fridays (and thankfully _only_ Fridays). “And then I’m gonna throw mouldy carrots at anyone that objects!

“Hermione totally will end up as Minister,” Benji giggled. “She knows _everything!”_

* * *

Saturday dawned bright and clear.

Not that Dudley knew this first hand. He was busy luxuriating in a nice long lie in deep under the castle. No morning alarms, no classes to rush off to, and no danger of missing breakfast as on Saturdays, it ran continuously until it merged into lunch.

Pure bliss!

Rolling over again, he stretched pleasantly and contemplated finally getting up in order to go and shower. He’d heard Benji crawl out of his own bed over half an hour ago but he was yet to come back. Dudley suspected his tiny room-mate was once again busy trying to become part merman – he spent _ages_ in the bath when he had the chance to.

“Mmmm, shower, food,” Dudley yawned to himself as he stared up at the pale oak boards covering the top of his four-poster bed. He’d thought about sticking one of his footy posters up there, but knowing his luck it would fall down onto his head in the middle of the night and scare him stupid.

Then again, if he used spellotape, that risk should be removed. 

After musing on this new idea for another couple of minutes, he finally reached out and tugged his curtains open. As always seemed to happen over night, the clothes that he’d left out had magically folded themselves and ended up neatly piled on the end of his desk. The Hufflepuff crest emblazoned laundry basket that had appeared by the door while they were in classes on Wednesday (along with a list of laundry instructions) had also emptied itself, though it looked like the uniforms and underwear they’d thrown in it had yet to reappear. 

Finally wobbling to his feet, he grabbed the humongous yellow fluffy towel he’d filched from the bathroom, and also snatched up his wash bag. Then he went to roll the door open. It rotated sideways near-silently with a simple light push in the right direction, and beyond it he was greeted by the amusing sight of Wayne Hopkins flopped longways over the settee fast asleep, his legs hanging over one arm.

He was snoring loudly.

Snorting at his housemate, he otherwise tried to be quiet as he crossed the space over to the bathroom. No sense waking him up when leaving him there meant his other housemates might get the opportunity to laugh at him too!

Once he’d slipped inside, he hastened over to the shower cubicle he’d already started to favour. The showers here at Hogwarts were actually pretty much the same as the non-electric ones in the muggle world; the only real differences were that the water always came out at exactly the right temperature straight away, and the hot water never ever seemed to run out.

Twenty minutes later and he was stood half dressed in front of the big mirror trying to tame his unruly blonde curls into some semblance of order. Benji had emerged from one of the end bath rooms (as predicted) with his fingers looking like shrunken prunes just as Dudley had more or less gotten his hair smoothed diagonally back with the help of some Sleekeazy’s. He was careful not to overdo it though; he didn’t want to end up looking a prat like Malfoy did. 

A bit of a natural wave and some volume was _much_ preferable to inviting _that_ comparison.

* * *

“So who’s actually going then?” Dudley asked as the usual group of them left the Great Hall, stomachs pleasantly full of sandwiches and soup. 

“Hagrid’s letter was addressed to both of us Duds, and it said _bring your friends,”_ Harry shrugged. “Guess that means whoever wants to can come.”

“Does he _really_ live in a wooden hut?” Ron pulled a face. “When you know, there’s a whole bloody great big castle right here. Surely there’s a tower or two Dumbledore could’ve let him have? Not that there’s anything wrong with a hut if that’s what he likes,” he hastened to add with an embarrassed blush. 

“Guess we’ll find out,” Hermione also shrugged. “Lay on Macduff!”

“What?” Harry frowned in confusion. “Lay on what?”

* * *

It ended up being six of them that walked down the south-east hill path towards the edge of the forbidden forest. Hannah and Susan had initially planned on coming too, until Susan had suddenly recalled that she’d promised to floo-call her mother over an hour ago and had completely forgotten. Hannah had gone with her in an attempt to stop her completely exploding with panic and stress. 

As they walked down, Dudley found himself glad that he’d thought to throw one of his school robes on over his muggle clothes as a coat; the wind was really starting to pick up and it had quite a biting edge to it.

“Blimey, those are massive!” Ron gawped as they rounded the edge of a chunk of semi-collapsed wall and entered the flat clearing Hagrid’s house was standing in. It was indeed a hut, with deep-brown wooden walls and a neatly slate tiled roof, the single large chimney atop it gently dispelling wafts of smoke. It was much bigger than Dudley had been expecting, which made sense when one considered the sheer size of the man who lived in it, but it was still clearly only one story tall, and seemed to consist only of one main round section with a smaller round annexe off the far side and a little square entrance hall that a giant wooden door was set into. 

To the right of it was what Dudley was going to call a vegetable patch for lack of a better description or name, but it was almost entirely overrun by gigantic pumpkins that were nearly as big as a car! These were what had caused Ron’s exclamation. 

“I bet they’re for Halloween,” Benji goggled quietly as he walked up to the nearest one, his head not even reaching half it’s height. 

“That, or we’ve just found out where all our pumpkin juice comes from,” Ron snorted. 

“These are just mundane muggle ones!” Neville squawked as he joined Benji, poking at a smaller one with his wand. “How’s he gotten them to grow so massive!?”

“Mate if you don’t know, none of the rest of us stand a chance of guessing,” Ron chuckled. “You’re the plant nerd.”

“Come on, let’s go knock,” Harry grinned, shaking his head at everyone in amusement. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’d love a cuppa!”

* * *

Dudley slipped his inedible rock cake into his robe pocket as they all left an hour later; he planned on getting it Mr Albus as a gag-gift somehow. He’d learnt that the eccentric headmaster was fond of such oddities after ten years of irregular house visits, and this way Hagrid would be none-the-wiser to the fact that his baking was terrible.

* * *

His and Harry’s meeting with Professor McGonagall in her quarters was almost exactly like all their Saturday study sessions always had been. All that had changed was the location.

First, she questioned them on how they were settling into their classes and houses, then she wanted to know about all the friends she’d seen them make. She had a new tea blend for them to try that she’d had imported from India for Harry’s benefit, and then she made sure to ply them both with excessive amounts of Scottish shortbread until they promised never to bring her any of Hagrid’s rock cakes ever again. 

Dudley also took the opportunity to ask about getting some post to his mum and dad the muggle way, and she quickly jotted down the address of a London Post Office for him, informing him that they offered a wixen-muggle transfer service. All he had to do was send Hercules there with his letters and one knut per envelope as payment, and they would stick the stamps on for him and slip them into the Royal Mail’s circulation. 

Not the fastest delivery method by far, she rolled her eyes, but it would stop Vernon Dursley from throwing a silly bigoted hissy fit (Dudley’s words, not the Professors). 

And then when they were finally getting up to return to their friends and weekend freedom, she’d handed them a book each and told them they had to read the first chapter over the coming week, ready to discuss the content next Saturday (apparently after ten years, she was too used to spending time with them to let them escape her clutches now…). Dudley’s was a newly published anthology containing articles on wixen astronomy, while Harry’s was a beginner’s guide to the animagus transformation. 

_Great,_ Dudley thought fondly as her door closed behind them, _more homework!_

* * *

“Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear yeeeee!” Tonks called over the assembled crowd in the main common room, wearing an evil looking grin. “Welcome everyone, to the 998th annual Hufflepuff Honours Celebratory Soirée!”

Dudley joined in with the raucous cheering despite having no idea what was going on or what was going to happen. All he’d been told was that attendance was compulsory and that he should wear clothes he didn’t mind getting mucky.

Oh, and that it was a Hufflepuff only event of course. 

“Quieten down you horrible lot!” Tonks laughed loudly after a few moments, which set off another round of cheerful jeers. “Yes yes, I know. You all love me! You still need to shut up!”

“As always, we’ll be doing this in reverse age order!” the other seventh year prefect, Donny Abioye announced from where he was standing next to Tonks. “Sorry firsties, but that means you’re first up! So without further ado! Smithers twins! Bring out the elixir of euphoria!”

Two non-identical wixen that were still obviously siblings stood up then, bowing and curtseying alternately to yet more applause and whooping. As soon as they’d done this half a dozen times, they magically levitated a large golden barrel up between them and directed it to the centre of the room. They then lowered it, placing it on the big rubber mat that had been put down in front of the even larger barrel the two prefects were stood atop. 

Once they had checked to make sure it was stable, the twins whipped the lid off and the common room suddenly filled with smell of… lemon meringue?

“Line up, line up, line up!” Abioye cheered, waving both arms in an exaggerated come hither gesture. “Firsties to meeeee!”

Dudley looked down at Benji apprehensively, but his small friend was wearing a determined look and didn’t seem anxious at all. He glanced to his right instead and managed to catch Justin’s eye, but all he got in return was a shrug and a _what the heck?_ expression. 

Dudley sighed and took a step forward.

Only for Benji to stride past him with a resolute look and his chest puffed out.

“Smalls O’Claw in pole position!” Tonks whooped wildly, hands over their head. 

“Dunk, dunk, dunk, dunk, dunk!” Everyone began to chant loudly, fists pumping. Tonks crouched down to whisper something to Benji, who then relaxed and grinned gleefully. 

And then with zero warning, he leant over and stuck his entire head in the barrel.

“Wooooo! Go Benji!” Dudley found himself yelling along with the crowd as his tiny friend stood upright again, yellow goop absolutely dripping off him. Benji sluiced the worst of it off of his face with one hand and then let himself be nudged away, still grinning like a maniac. 

He jogged back over to Dudley giggling himself senseless. 

“Dunk, dunk, dunk, dunk!” the crowd started chanting again, prompting Dudley to glance back towards to the barrel. Zacharias Smith was now standing in front of it, clearly mentally gearing himself up to follow Benji’s example.

“You have to do it Duds, it’s a happiness potion and it makes you feel _wizard!”_ Benji laughed joyfully, crashing clumsily into his side. Was he trying to... hug him? While covered in _thick slime!?_

“Guess I do,” he sighed with a slight smile of his own, hugging Benji back briefly. He ended up with half of Benji’s gloop on him but whatever; he was about to make it worse himself anyway.

And then standing up straight again, Dudley raised his head proudly and cheerfully went to stick his head in the barrel of Merlin knows what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take the canon, and I blend it until it's creamy and smoooooth. Occasionally adding seasoning.
> 
> FYI the "happiness potion" is actually just a big vat of runny lemon curd... But the placebo effect is a real thing and first years will believe anything 😂


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> House Points to whomever successfully translates my horribly mangled Latin

Monday.

Day of the moon. Apparently.

To Dudley it was simply triple H day. Herbology, History, and Healing. With, of course, a side of Flying thrown in as the exception which proves the rule. 

Double Herbology was first, a nice gentle introduction to the week. Professor Sprout was cheerful and patient as always, he and Benji got to work with Harry and the Gryffindors, and the greenhouse was just the right sort of pleasantly warm to soothe them all despite the pouring rain that had started hammering down on the glass roof just after ten. 

The trek back up to the castle afterwards was considerably less gentle. 

“Bloody hell,” Roan moaned pitifully as the whole class finally trudged back inside, all absolutely dripping wet. “Anyone know a drying charm?”

“There’s one that blasts hot air!” Benji bounced, flicking his sleeves and splashing water everywhere. “I uh, don’t know the incantation or movement though…”

They all looked to Hermione.

Hermione looked back.

“I’ll look it up at lunch,” she sighed reluctantly. 

“Well that’s no good to us _now,”_ Ron complained.

“So what do we do in the meantime?” Neville grimaced, trying to wring out his outer robe hood. “We can’t go to class like this! We’ve got Transfiguration! McGonagall will have our heads!”

“Or seeing as it’s break time, you could just go to Transfiguration early and ask her what the charm is?” Dudley suggested slyly. “You might even get points for showing um, what’s it called? Initi-something?”

“Initiative,” Hermione finished for him, her face lighting up with delight at the idea. 

“Hey! Wait up!” Ernie shouted as she immediately turned and ran towards the grand stairs. “We want to know this charm too Granger!”

* * *

The group of Hufflepuffs arrived outside of the History classroom pleasantly warm and dry and very pleased with the two house points apiece they’d all just earned from Professor McGonagall. Justin and Wayne were both still muttering _calidi-caeli_ under their breath and practising flicking their wrists in the rotational triple loop the charm required.

None of them had actually managed to perform the spell yet, but those two were determined to get it right as soon as possible.

Their good mood quickly evaporated though, when the Slytherins turned the corner into the corridor only a minute later. With Malfoy prancing along at the front like the giant big-headed prat that he was. 

This wasn’t the first class they’d shared with their green-clad wixen year mates as they also had Astronomy together twice on Thursdays. The first hour last week, the one they had straight after lunch, had been unpleasant. The second two, which hadn’t even _started_ until ten in the evening, had been positively diabolical. 

Dudley had been very put out as learning about stars and planets and moons had been one of the few science things he’d actually really enjoyed at primary school. He’d been dying to use his magical telescope to get an up-close look at the wonders of the universe, but instead he’d ended up spending most of his time side eyeing Crabbe and Goyle and dodging Malfoy’s pathetic but irritating repeated attempts to hit him with a stinging jinx.

And now, here the three menaces were again. Swanning down the corridor with the rest of the Slytherins trailing behind them like simpering sycophants. Just great.

“Hey, where’s the nice one?” Hannah whispered into Dudley’s ear as the Hufflepuffs all collectively rolled their eyes at the arrogant idiots. “The one you brought to the library on Friday?”

Dudley peered through the small crowd of green and black. Zarr was nowhere to be seen.

“Probably avoiding walking with this lot of morons,” Dudley frowned. “I’m sure he’ll get here in a moment?”

“Well if it isn’t the school’s two biggest losers,” Malfoy laughed as he and his hangers on finally made it to the classroom door. “Squibbies _and_ Hufflepuffs! Imagine being a loser squared! Oh wait, my apologies Dursley, you’re not even a squib!”

Dudley, channelling his best McGonagall, squared his shoulders and turned to face the white-blonde haired bully with as bored a look as he could manage. 

“Sorry Malfoy, we don’t speak parrot. Could you translate into a language intelligent people can understand?”

There was a chorus of low ooooo’s from behind him and Dudley felt himself smirking slightly. 

“Think you’re funny, do you?” Malfoy spat. 

“Compared to you, he’s hilarious,” Zacharias snorted, putting that biting cynicism of his to good use. “You do set such a low bar Malfoy.”

“Practically on the floor!” Ernie laughed as he mimed stepping sideways over something. 

Crabbe took a menacing step forward then, but Dudley had been chasing actual teenagers round since he was eight and wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. 

“Are you done being prats now?” Dudley asked mildly, ignoring Crabbe’s looming entirely. “Or do you need a little bit more time to finish acting like my muggle dad?”

Malfoy drew his wand with a snarl. 

Every Hufflepuff at Dudley and Benji’s back drew theirs.

Then the door to the History classroom creaked open and the crackling tension in the air deflated with an almost palpable pop.

“Yeah, a bigot is a bigot no matter which world they’re from,” Dudley scoffed as he turned his back and headed inside.

* * *

History of Magic was boring as all hell. 

They’d all been expecting it to be, as even Hermione had admitted to being less than engaged with it last week, but by Merlin… It was so very boring. 

Dudley had given up on paying attention to Professor Binn’s drawling only fifteen minutes into the lesson. All he was doing was dully reading out the first chapter of their set course book anyway, his voice somehow even more monotonous than Dudley had thought was physically possible. Even considering magic. 

Instead, he spent the time pondering the mystery of Zarr’s absence. The mopey Slytherin squib had never shown up to class. 

_Skiving???_ he read off the scrap of parchment that Benji had just slid back across the desk to him.

 _Off ill?_ Dudley hastily scribbled, pretending he was taking notes. 

_Hiding from slythergits?_ Ernie added on next, helpfully clearing off their previous notes too, before passing it back.

 _They are gits_ Dudley agreed. _I’d ~~scive~~ skive 2 if I had to be in S w/ Malfoy_

_w/???_

_w/ = with_

_ta. G have potions w/ S after lunch 4 1 hour. Should b there??_

_Harry can check 4 us_

Dudley pushed the note back along the desk again, nodding to Ernie once he’d gotten it from Benji. Ernie nodded back before whispering the spell to clear the ink away again. Then he shoved the parchment scrap into his inner pocket and went back to listlessly staring at the blank blackboard.

Professor Binns continued droning on obliviously, floating back and forth without a single shred of awareness in his ghostly brain.

* * *

“What do you mean he didn’t show up for class!?” Hermione gasped “That’s against the rules!”

Dudley snorted and continued picking the huge tomato slices out his ham sandwiches. 

“We mean he wasn’t in History of Magic,” Justin repeated, leaning on his elbow. “He might be ill or something, but we don’t know.”

“So he could have _chosen_ to skip?” Hermione squinted. 

“Or he could be ill,” Ron rolled his eyes. “I know he’s a snake, but don’t assume- um. Yeah. He’s probably off ill. Or he were in a meeting. Or spellotaped to a dungeon wall!”

“Why would someone spellotape him to a wall?”

“Well he’s not the most popular bloke, is he?” Ron shrugged, shoving food in his mouth. “He’s weird aroun’ us, th’ Ravenclaws ignore ‘im and th’ other Slytherin’s ‘ate him.”

“Ron!” Hermione scolded, slapping him on the shoulder. “For the last time, don’t talk with your mouth full!”

* * *

The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years morosely huddled under a long stone walkway and stared out at the atrocious weather. The rain had not let up in the slightest and their first flying lesson was supposed to be starting in five minutes. 

“I’m telling you, it’s going to be called off!” Terry Boot said for the third time. “We can’t use broomsticks in this! Most of us are beginners! We’ll get blown off and fall to our deaths!”

“I could manage fine,” Lisa Turpin shrugged. “But I suppose I have been flying since I was old enough to sit on a broom.”

“Well I for one would be glad if the lesson was postponed to next week,” Anthony Goldstein declared, pushing his damp gold-frame glasses back up his nose. “An extra hour in the library sounds like a far superior idea to flapping around uselessly in the air.”

“It better rain this hard tomorrow as well,” Terry continued grumpily. “If the Slytherins get to fly before we do, Malfoy will never shut up about it.”

“Why’d you care what Malfoy thinks?” Ernie pulled a face.

“I don’t. That’s why I don’t want him to have something else to prattle endlessly on about. I have to hear enough of his nonsense opinions already!”

“He’s got a point there,” Turpin snorted. 

“Heads up, Professor incoming!” Peter Gripps spoke up. Gripps was one of the Ravenclaw mag-adjs, but he had an older muggleborn wixen sister that was also in Ravenclaw, and he was therefore already quite well acquainted with the wixen world; he seemed to know at least as much as Dudley did, despite the fact it was only the second week of term.

“Good afternoon class!” the professor greeted them as she strode down the walkway towards them in a neat grey muggle suit with a black quidditch robe worn over it.

They all dutifully chanted good afternoon back.

“As you can see we are being faced with some rather inclement weather this afternoon. Not suitable, I would say, for your first ever time on a broom. Now if you were taking the advanced course as the upper years have the chance to, we would be slogging out into it regardless. But as you are first years, I shall be lenient. I will not have it said that I am _completely_ heartless, just mostly. Turn around, to the Grand Hall with you all!”

* * *

There were separate brooms set aside for the non-wixens in the class. One’s that had additional charms layered on them so that they would respond to the will of any rider, not just those with magic. They were however, just as battered and worn out as the rest of the school broomsticks.

As they were inside, they weren’t allowed to actually mount them or do any kind of flying – not even some low hovering – so instead they set them aside and spent some time discussing how rider intent was the most important factor when steering, and how they would have to pair that with physical body movements.

Then somehow they all tangented off into a heated debate about which famous quidditch players and teams were the best. Dudley found himself daydreaming about introducing footy to the school instead of participating. Or maybe even rugby. Something he could play that let him keep both feet on the ground!

Finally, when the hour was almost up, Madam Hooch shifted the central two house tables to the edge of the hall with a wave of her wand and ordered them all to file into two lines down the middle; Ravenclaws facing Hufflepuffs.

“Right then!” she called, “Step up alongside your brooms, and place your wand hand above it!”

Dudley giggled when Hestia Rowena rolled her eyes opposite him. Madam Hooch should really have said dominant hand rather than wand, but he supposed some old habits were hard to break.

“Now remember that intent is key, and say _up!”_

“Up!” Dudley commanded.

The broom’s handle jerked wildly and smacked him hard in the face.

* * *

Zarr was not in the final mag-adj class of the day. That leant credence to their theory that he was off ill or otherwise indisposed. 

On the other hand, said final class was literally in the Hospital wing. And Zarr wasn’t there either. 

When they arrived, Dudley beginning to sport a swollen eye, the main infirmary room was empty of patients. There were plenty of clinical metal frame beds lined up neatly down either side of the well-lit room, but all the surrounding curtains were pulled back and not a one of them was occupied. There were also some wooden doors set at various places in the walls, but three of these were open to show that they were medical storage rooms, the fourth seemed to be empty, while the fifth and final was labelled by a plaque denoting it as the office. Unless Zarr was hiding behind Madam Pomfrey’s desk, he was therefore absent.

Dudley didn’t have long to dwell on that though, as they were quickly ushered by the mediwitch into that small fourth room and asked to sit in a circle on the carpeted floor. 

“Now we’re all settled,” Madam Pomfrey began gently once she’d sat on a low stool and unruffled her skirts. “I think it’s important that you know that this is a brand new subject introduced to the school just this year, and that you’re the only ones who get to do it. You won’t be graded on anything so all I ask is that you try your best and listen carefully. What we’re all going to be doing, is learning how to do some basic diagnosing, how to use some salves and potions, and what to do if someone is injured and needs help. Does that sound okay?”

Dudley eagerly nodded, as did everyone else. Harry was prone to finding trouble even when there should be none to be found; knowing another way to look after him when he inevitably _did_ find it was always going to be good in Dudley’s book.

“Some people might try to tell you that you can’t do any healing or medi-aid without magic, but I want you ignore them,” Madam Pomfrey instructed them slightly sternly. “If that were the case, muggles would still be dying in droves and we all know they’re not. It hasn’t happened yet, but I honestly think it won’t be long until one of you finds yourself doing a healing-mastery at St Mungo's, researching all the possible ways we could combine the muggle’s medical machines with our spells. I hear they’ve been doing all sorts of strange but effective things with the mundane magnetic elements recently.”

“MRI machine,” Dudley whispered to Helena Sparks, who was sat on his right. “My dad had to go-”

“Something you’d like to share Mr Dursley?” Madam Pomfrey cut him off with a raised eyebrow.

“Um,” he stuttered, feeling his cheeks heat. “I uh, the magnet machine. They’re called MRIs. My dad had to go in one to get a scan of his heart made. They err, the doctors said that they use the magnets to make all the um, energy in your body face one way and then they use a…. a radio? To change some of the energy, and that, uhh, they could detect when it changed back and use that to make pictures of what’s inside of you? I think?”

“Well that’s certainly more than I knew, thank you for explaining. Next time put your hand up rather than whispering please.”

“Yes miss- I mean madam, sorry madam.”

“No harm done Mr Dursley. Now, I think we should start off with something fun and practical. Who wants to lie on the floor and pretend to be unconscious?”

* * *

Dudley grabbed Benji and convinced him to stay in the Hospital wing with him after their healing lesson had finished. They walked out of the little study room they’d been working in with the other mag-adjs, but then waved them off and went to wait by the matron’s office door. 

They only had to a stand there for a minute before the mediwitch came bustling up to them. 

“I presume you’re hoping I can fix that black eye your developing,” she greeted them again dryly. Though she was smiling as she said it, so Dudley didn’t think she was _too_ exasperated by him. 

“Um, well. Actually we were hoping you could tell us if Timothy Zarr is okay? He hasn’t been in classes all day.”

“Yes, I was forewarned Mr Zarr would be absent from today’s lesson. You can be reassured that he’s not missing for any medical reason. If you want to know more though, you’ll have to wait until you see him again and then see if he’s willing to tell you himself. Do not harass him for the information though, it is his decision whether to share it or not. Am I being clear?”

“Yes Madam, thank you!”

“Oi young man! Don’t run off yet! Come here so I can fix your eye before you leave! How did you even manage this, you’ve got a great big line of swelling down your cheek too!”

Benji burst in giggles and mimed being smacked in the face, complete with slapstick sound effect. Why had Dudley befriended the midget again!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should be the last of the _So what the heck do muggles and squibs learn at a magic school!?_ chapters. Which means I can cheerfully perform a delete.exe on my brain to remove the fact that my timetable doesn't physically function unless some of the mag-adjs can be in two places at once (and no, there's no time turners.... yet). Huzzah!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmm, filler chapters are my favourite! /s

Zarr was back in class on Tuesday. He sleuthed into Defence at the last second as miserable looking as ever and took his usual seat next to Dudley without saying a word. 

Dudley considered asking him where he’d been then and there, but Zarr flipped the hood of his robe up and leant on his fist such that he was tilted away from him as soon as he’d gotten his quill and books out. Dudley decided to leave him be.

He doubted he’d get an answer anyway, so why invite further tension?

* * *

However the mystery of Zarr’s disappearance was entirely eclipsed and thus completely forgotten about by the end of the school day. 

The Gryffindors and Slytherins had had their first flying class last period, and unlike the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, they’d gotten to go outside and actually do the lesson properly. Ish.

Neville had the worst luck.

“He was clinging on for dear life!” Seamus Finnegan was gesticulating wildly when the Hufflepuffs met the Gryffindors outside of the library as planned. “The broom went crazy, no way was it Nev doing all that! I think it must have been cursed!”

Seamus, Dean and Emil didn’t usually hang out with them after classes, but they’d come along this time in order to share the gossip. Normally the three Gryffindors could be found in the company of Peter Gripps and Daniel Snow, the Ravenclaw mag-adj boys, but now _all_ of them were clustered together on the first floor. Gripps and Snow had followed the Hufflepuffs and were now just as invested in the retelling as the rest of them.

(Nev was still missing of course, as he had yet to reappear.)

“And then once he’d finally been thrown off and gone falling down the side of the castle, he got stuck on two different sconces, tore all his robes, and then landed on his arm and broke his wrist!”

“Matron Pomfrey vill fix that very quick, I do think,” Emil took over. “But then vhen Mistress Hooch left to takes him to the Hospital rooms, Malfoy stole his remember-all and flew away viz it.”

“And then Harry got on his broom too!” Ron enthused. “It was so badass!”

“It so reckless and stupid you mean,” Hermione sighed, Justin nodding along in apparent agreement with her.

“Well it turned out wicked!” Ron carried on anyway. “Harry yelled at Malfoy to give him Nev’s Remberall back, but Malfoy threw it at a window. Harry zoomed after it, right up to the tower Transfiguration is in! Did this _awesome_ little flip and clean caught it out of the air!”

“I was _sure_ he was going to get himself expelled,” Hermione sighed again. _“Especially_ when Professor McGonagall came outside and took him away.”

“But then he didn’t!” Seamus grinned. “McGonagall took him to meet Oliver Wood, who’s our house’s quidditch captain!”

“That is vhere Harry is now. At the stadium with Vood! Harry came to tell us before he left again that he is being made the seeker!”

“Youngest in a century!” Ron breathed dreamily, a look of pure content on his face.

“I suppose it _was_ a good catch and very brave of him to stand up to Malfoy like that,” Hermione admitted with a grimace. “But next time we should all do as Madam Hooch says! Getting expelled would be the _worst!”_

“Hang on, Harry got on to your Quidditch team!?” Benji gasped. “But first years aren’t allowed to play!”

“That’s not fair! I want to play too!” Gripps complained. “Or at least be allowed to go the try outs this weekend!”

“Nah, we’ll live,” Grace Hopkins smirked. “This way we all get to laugh at Malfoy when he finds out and turns green as his robes with envy! If we try to get the rules changed so we can all play, Malfoy will just get his father to help him bully his way onto the Slytherin team, and then he’ll just be smug instead of jealous. Better to let Potter be the exception.”

Gripps paused for a moment and looked contemplative. 

“I concede your point,” he decided with a smirk of his own. “I can wait a year if it serves to piss off Malfoy.”

* * *

They were still all talking about Harry’s daring catch and subsequent reward when the end of the week rolled around again.

Harry was the talk of the castle and so for once, they were all actually glad to be in the library, hiding away from it all.

The amount of homework they were getting was really starting to pick up now, and so Dudley found himself in there for an hour after classes more often than not. They had all settled into a nice routine now though, organised and enforced by Hermione and Justin working in tandem.

The pair were a force to be reckoned with, and even Ron was doing all most all of his homework on the day it was set, much to his apart mortification. They had no way of telling yet, but Dudley was sure it was doing good things for their grades, and for the first time ever, he was genuinely enjoying school. 

He was going to make sure to leave that revelation out of the letter he was currently trying to write to his parents though, instead deciding he should stick to talking the science-like lessons they were having in Muggle Tech. 

He’d finally gotten his first letter from his mum and dad just that morning at breakfast, Herc’ fluttering down in a tiny puffy bundle of black feathers, a parcel almost twice his size tied to his talons. The brown-paper wrapped box had contained a note bearing his mum’s handwriting, two big bars of Cadbury’s milk chocolate, a bag of cheese and onion Walkers crisps, a tube of Rolos, a bag of Rowntree’s fruit pastels, and finally, his analogue watch that he’d forgotten. He’d shoved most of this in his school bag temporarily and then taken it to his dorm room during morning break to share with Benji later.

The note though, he’d read straight away.

_Dear Duddkins,_

_Your father and I are glad to hear that you’re coping well despite being surrounded by those sorts of people. We are missing you dearly and cannot wait for you to return home to safety at Christmas. The house is simply not the same without your delightful presence and we miss hearing your beautiful voice._

_As you politely requested, I have spoken to Mr Polkiss and obtained Piers’ school address from him so that you may write to him as well. I have copied it for you onto the back of this letter. Your father also wishes you to know that he and I are very grateful that you posted this letter to us in a decent manner rather than using one of those squawking beasts. The instructions you included on how to reply in the same manner are also highly appreciated._

_Little Whinging and Privet Drive remain as proper and upstanding as ever. There have been some small rumours circulating about a new unfortunate family that has moved into the area, but I am sure I will manage to avoid them as I do not frequent the sorts of places their kind tend to inhabit. I mention this as I believe you could employ a similar tactic at school, adapted to your needs of course._

_Do make sure to stay safe and alert!_

_There is little else to report on our end. My gardens are still thriving, your father’s car is as gleaming and well maintained as ever, and his work and business is advancing as well as always. The house is also staying much cleaner and tidier in the absence of your dirty cousin, so would you please inform him that he is to stay at school over the holidays_

_It will be lovely to have you all to ourselves and we have many nice presents and outings planned for you._

_Thinking of you tenderly,  
Love Mummy and Daddy xx_

_PS. I’ve included the wristwatch you asked for, as well as some decent food and snacks – a welcome reprieve from whatever nonsense you’re being forced to eat the rest of the time, I am sure._

Dudley had read it a tad incredulously, but he’d long since learnt that there was no changing his parents’ minds’ where magic was concerned. He had realised that he would simply have to be circumspect about what he wrote to them about from now on, lest he end up making things worse for Harry when they both returned in the summer. 

But now that the he was sat trying to actually formulate a reply, he found that he had very little idea how to begin or what to include.

 _Dear Mum and Dad,_ he started eventually, looking longingly at the Muggle Tech homework he’d unfortunately already finished.

_School is still okay._

A nice safe, boring opening, he thought. Now he just had to translate everything that had happened into dad-approved topics. That is to say, he had to avoid mentioning any magic. Or Harry. Or quidditch. Or flying. Or-

_Our first sports lesson was rained off on Monday, so we did tactics inside instead. I got to talk about when Dad went to the hospital last year in a lesson this week, and also won some house points. My friend Neville is going to get me a plant for my desk in my room. He is very good with plants and I hope it will look good like your garden mum._

_Another boy is called Dean Thomas and he likes football just like I do, so this weekend if it is sunny we are going to go play with his ball outside. He is in the red house though, not the yellow one like me, so we don’t have many lessons together. Benji is with me in all my lessons and we are in the yellow house together. He is like me, but smaller. We have been ~~doing~~ learning about the ~~perri peridick~~ periodic table and learning an old language like Latin. Dad likes latin right?_

Good enough, he decided. Suitably muggle sounding, with strong implications that he had friends that did non-magic things. Just like dad had asked.

_Thank you for the sweets and crisps. It will just be me that will come home at Christmas_

_Love you lots,  
Dudley_

His handwriting was a bit of a mess – especially where he’d made some spelling mistakes and crossed the words out – but it was legible enough. Hermione would make him write it out again more neatly if she saw it though, so he quickly blew on the ink to dry it, and folded it away. 

Then he picked his already finished potions essay back up and turned to Zarr who was still working on it, determined to get the silent boy talking even just a little.

(He didn’t have much luck, but he supposed it was the attempt that counted.)

* * *

“Dudley! Dudley wake up!” 

Dudley groaned and tried to not wake up.

“Come on! You promised you’d come watch the Quidditch try-outs with me!”

Dudley did not want to get out of bed to go watch the Quidditch try-outs.

“Duuuuuuuuudley!” Benji whined, pulling Dudley’s curtains back and flouncing onto his bed on top of him. “Get uuuuuup!”

Dudley hated his life.

* * *

Seven am was far too early a time to be arriving at breakfast already. They didn’t even come up to the Great Hall this early on a school day, let alone on a Saturday! But unfortunately he _had_ promised Benji that they would be in the stadium stands by half past seven, and so here they were. At breakfast for seven o’clock. 

(Seven! On a _Saturday!)_

Because it was only try-outs, they were allowed to watch more than just their own houses. This wouldn’t be true once training started, and so this was their only chance to see Harry flying and playing outside of the actual matches. Unfortunately the Gryffindor try-outs were first, hence the unholy hour.

Hufflepuff’s session wasn’t until tomorrow afternoon. Thank Merlin.

At least, Dudley realised as he sat down and half-heartedly reached for the milk, he wasn’t the only one who looked half-dead. Hermione, Neville, and Justin all looked like they were regretting their life choices too.

* * *

“So what positions do you guys need to fill?” Benji quizzed Ron excitedly as they all climbed up the wooden stairs to sit on the right hand side of the stadium. 

“Just a chaser I think, now that we’ve got Harry as seeker. My twin brothers play as beaters, Wood is the keeper and Captain, Angelina Johnson played as one of the chasers last year and she’s continuing this year, and we’ve got Alicia Spinnet as a second chaser. She was only reserve last year, but she did all the training so she should be good.”

“We’ve got to replace most of our team,” Benji groaned. “All we’ve got left is a beater, a chaser, and the reserve keeper! All the other players left Hogwarts last year, even the witch who was supposed take over as team Captain! She got an apprenticeship so she didn’t come back for her seventh year!”

“I still don’t understand the scoring system of this game!” Hermione complained as she tugged her red and gold scarf off, obviously too warm. “What’s the point in having the three goals if the team with the best seeker can win it no matter how well the others are playing. What if one is team has scored 14 goals to nil, and then the other team’s seeker catches the snitch _by accident_ and they win instead! That means the rubbish team wins!”

Dudley privately agreed. Footy made so much more sense. 

“Because that makes it exciting!” Ron protested hotly. “You never know what’s going to happen!”

“Plus sometimes the chasers can score more than 15 goals and make the snitch irrelevant,” Ernie added, leaning backwards on the viewing box’s front barrier. 

“Or if you’re playing in a league set up like the Hogwarts teams do, then the number of points you score can turn out to be more important than winning every match,” Ron lectured. “It’s all about tactics and strategy. Doesn’t work with only four teams in a league, but sometimes its worth loosing deliberately after scoring lots of goals just so you get to play a team lower in the league next. That way you can score loads more points and push yourself further up the table.”

“Or you could just get rid of the seeker and the snitch and have a timed match instead,” Hermione huffed. 

“That’s what Quadpot is like,” Benji sniggered. “’cept the quad ball explodes if there’s too long between goals and they use a barrel instead of three hoops.”

“Which is why Quadpot is inferior,” Ron harrumphed. “The seeker is the best player!”

“I just like watching them zoom about really fast,” Neville shrugged as Ron and Benji got into yet another heated debated over which was the better sport.

Dudley stayed out of it and decided that Neville’s opinion was the most sensible.

* * *

The Gryffindor team ended up selecting a witch named Katie Bell as their new chaser after only half an hour, so the mixed group of Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs trudged their way back to the Great Hall for more breakfast. Justin kept insisting it was technically brunch now, but then his family were muggle nobles and he’d almost ended up at Eton College, so they usually just ignored him when he started going on about nomenclature and etiquette.

Seamus, Dean, and Emil peeled away to join the Ravenclaws once they actually got inside, and Susan vanished too, presumably to go find Zach and Wayne who she weirdly seemed to like despite Zach’s biting personality. That left the usual seven of them (minus the ever allusive Zarr) to claim their normal seats in the middle of the Gryffindor table. 

Once they’d refilled their plates, Benji and Ron started discussing their ardent love of the Chudley Canons team again, causing the rest of them to sigh in relief as it was the one sports thing the two boys actually agreed on. Thankfully it didn’t take Harry long to rejoin them, freshly showered and back in his muggle weekend clothing, at which point the conversation turned to their weekend plans. 

“Please don’t make us go to the library again,” Ernie begged shamelessly as he buttered a slice of brown toast. “We promise we all finished our homework yesterday afternoon!”

“We did!” Ron agreed fervently. “And there’s more of the castle to explore yet! Harry and I found a shortcut from Transfiguration to the Charms room behind a tapestry that we want to show you!”

“Actually, you know what we haven’t done yet?” Justin smirked slyly. “Been to each other’s common rooms to compare and see who got the better deal!”

“Hufflepuff first!” Dudley quickly blurted out, not keen on climbing all the way up to the seventh floor on a full stomach.

* * *

“Wait here with Dudley,” Ernie told the four Gryffindors once they’d made their way downstairs, making them stand in the kitchen corridor outside the barrel nook. “We’re not supposed to show anyone how to open the door.”

“We’ll fetch you once the tunnel’s open,” Justin nodded before slipping through the gap into to the second row behind Ernie and Benji. 

“Why can’t you tell us?” Harry asked Dudley curiously, peering around him towards the hidden opening that lead around to The Sett’s entrance 

“Password never changes,” Dudley shrugged. “The door’s booby trapped so you can’t just randomly guess, but if we showed you how to get in, you’d be able to come in whenever forever more.”

“But what if someone over hears it?” Hermione immediately asked. “Anyone could stand here and wait for someone to say it!”

“The whole nook is covered in three different silencing charms,” Justin informed her as he reappeared. “And also the door is booby trapped, so you can’t just randomly guess. Come on, Benji’s holding the door for us all!”

* * *

“Okay so I think our common room and study area is better,” Ron decided as they left an hour later. “But your rooms and bathroom are nicer. Aside from all the yellow that is. Blimey, it really was everywhere! Even your bedsheets are yellow and black!”

* * *

“So glad I’m not in Gryffindor,” Dudley huffed breathlessly as they _finally_ made it to the seventh floor. Having started in the basement, which was a floor and a half under ground level, it had taken them _ages_ to get all the way up to the top of the castle.

“You get used to it,” Neville said quietly, hanging at the back of the group as usual. “Well, I hope I’ll get used to it eventually.”

“Entrance is this way,” Harry nodded his head, indicating a smaller red floored corridor leading away from the top of the moving staircase tower. 

They followed him down it, Dudley noticing that there were even more portraits hanging on the walls here than anywhere else in the castle. And there was usually quite a lot, especially in the main north and west corridors on each of the floors. 

The hallway they were walking along came to an end quite quickly in a small portrait gallery. The space here was even more lavish than the corridor preceding it, with gold and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, gold tassels around the edge of a very large and highly embroidered red rug, and polished suits of golden armour in all four corners that had lions engraved on the helmets and breast plates.

There was also a raised dais stood against the back wall, two stone steps leading up it. 

On the centre of this wall was one of the most finely painted portraits Dudley had ever seen. An incredibly detailed and almost lifelike picture of a large lady in a pink silk dress holding a crystal goblet filled most of it. Her dark hair had been coiled into tight ringlets, and she was sat demurely in front of sunny rural landscape containing a large white marble column building in the distance. Her pale face was rouged precisely on both cheeks, and she had extremely thick eyelashes that were curled to perfection.

She shifted and seemed to come awake as they approached.

“Password?” she asked without preamble, gazing down at them all sternly.

“Caput Draconis!” Hermione dictated to her clearly as she stepped to the front of their group. The pink-clad lady nodded in approval and suddenly there was a loud click; a release of a latch. 

The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole.

“See!” Ron smirked to Hannah, who was still gazing around the small room with wide eyes. “Told you that you wouldn’t have to hunch over to get in like you do your common room!”

“I don’t have to hunch!” Benji jested. “And neither did Harry! Being tiny does have its advantages!”

Harry and Benji gave each other a high five and then stepped up after Hermione. 

The space on the other side of the stone hole wasn’t actually all that different from the Hufflepuff common room. The colour scheme was different obviously, and there were considerably fewer plants hanging off the walls and furniture, but overall the layout and the content was actually fairly similar. 

The main difference lay in the fact that there were four giant soaring windows, that swept upwards passed a central landing on what must be the floor above. They let in masses of natural light, and must let the Gryffindors have an amazing view of the sky at night.

Their common room was also more rounded than the near-flat sided octagon of The Sett, and there were no additional rooms off the sides. These rooms did not have counterparts, Harry had explained on the climb up here, but the Gryffindors still had access to a meditation room elsewhere in the castle, while the Gryffindor house books were simply shelved on the wall opposite their central fireplace.

Another difference could be seen in the dormitory staircase. In the Hufflepuff Basement, there was only one and it was in the back right corner room off the main space. Here, the staircase up to the dormitories was actually two smaller staircases that ran down either side of the large fireplace and then joined up behind the chimney to exit onto that first landing. Once they were escorted up there, they could tell it was actually more like a small balcony looking down on the sofas and tables below. 

They only paused here for a moment though before Hermione lead them further up, directing them to another narrow staircase. This one wound around the outside of the tower almost as is it was a long curving corridor. Dudley let everyone go ahead of him and took the opportunity to glance out of one the giant windows and was greeted by a brilliant view over the Quidditch pitch and the forbidden forest beyond.

Ron was right - because of this view, their common room _was_ slightly better than the Hufflepuffs’ (aside from the inferior colours of course…).

“It’s one year to every floor here, so I’ve not been any further up the stairs than this yet,” He heard Hermione saying from somewhere ahead of him. There was a creak of a door then, and when Dudley caught up, he found that everyone had entered through a wooden door back into the central part of the tower. 

The space was split like a cross, with stonewalled rooms on the four quarters and small hallways in-between. Warm, dark redwood was panelled across the ceiling, and at the end of hallway directly ahead was yet another narrow staircase, this one dark metal and spiralling upwards.

“Bathroom’s up there,” Neville told him quietly, as everyone else had already moved on into one of the rooms. Dudley nodded in thanks and understanding.

“There’s twelve of you in Gryffindor, isn’t there?” he asked after a moment as he peered around. “So how come there’s only four bedrooms? Shouldn’t there be six?”

“Four beds in one room here,” Neville shrugged back. “And we don’t get a little kitchen or sitting space like you do. That’s why Ron said your dorms are better. Oh, and your bathroom was nicer; we don’t get free hair potions and we don’t have any bathtubs, just showers.”

“So I guess you’re sharing a room with Ron and Harry then?”

“Yeah. I started off with Emil and Dean, but then I swapped with Seamus last week. And because Hermione chose to share with two of the girls instead of us, there’s still a free bed if anyone wants to sleepover.”

“You guys are allowed sleepovers!?” 

“Only on weekends,” Neville smiled slightly. “You’re allowed them too you know. On Friday and Saturdays, so long as you’re in a common room by curfew, you can sleep in any dormitory! Even down with the Slytherins if you really wanted to!”

“Well then,” Dudley grinned in delight. “I suggest we plan a Gryffindor-Hufflepuff games night!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the Gryffindor common room remains basically unchanged from canon, I have slightly reimagined the layout of the actual dorm rooms to better fit the inclusive theme we've got going on here. You can picture the aesthetics of the insides of the rooms basically as they are in the books and films, they're just a slightly different shape and I have doubled the number of them to account for the addition of the mag-adjs. 
> 
> I have also shifted the bathroom(s) so that there's two on a floor, sandwiched between year dorms. For instance, the first years go up into the left half of the floor above, while second years come down onto the same floor but the right half. If you assume that the sixth and seventh years share a floor because there's less of them (dropouts etc. more on that later), then Gryffindor tower now has eight floors including the common room level.


	12. Chapter 12

Another week flew by. Another Friday morning dawned. 

Dudley had decided that Wednesdays were the best. Arts first thing, where they’d now started creating sketches based on the styles of famous wixen painters. Muggle Tech either side of break which was a mixture of basic chemistry and physics at the minute – they were growing acid-base-neutralisation crystals in the first hour each lesson, and making light bulb circuits with charmed crocodile-clip wires in the second. 

Care of Magical Creatures after lunch could be a bit hit or miss depending on how riled up the third years were, but Dudley didn’t mind _too_ much as this term they were doing a project on nifflers. The small brown-furred creatures were super cute, liked being pet and cuddled, and were easy to distract with shiny things when you needed to observe or draw them.

And then they got a nice relaxed end to the school day with Herbology, the only Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class that the mag-adjs were also in. 

But today was not Wednesday. Today was Friday. Which meant double Potions first thing. Dammit.

Lying in bed listening to Benji’s alarm going off as usual, Dudley contemplated simply just not getting up until after his least favourite class had already ended. Neither he nor Harry knew why, but Snape _hated_ both of them and seemed intent on making their lives miserable. Dudley tried to not give him any excuse to take house points or berate him, but it was hard when Snape was obviously actively searching for even the slightest mistake. Rose thorn split in half a millimetre off centre? Two points from Hufflepuff. Potion stirred for quarter of second too long? What are you doing you idiot boy, can you not read instructions!? Another two points from Hufflepuff.

When Dudley asked, Harry reported facing the same problem.

Dudley was _this_ close to giving into temptation and earning his first detention by screaming at Snape to stop being such a horrible mean pedantic bully.

He didn’t know what else he could do to make it stop. Hopefully he’d think of something soon!

But first he supposed he better get out of bed and go with Benji up to breakfast.

* * *

There didn’t seem to be any kind of pattern to what was served at the various mealtimes, so Dudley was as surprised as everyone else when he and Benji arrived in the Great Hall to find that it was a giant bacon sandwich day.

There were of course a few alternatives for those like Anthony Goldstein who didn’t eat any pork products or were vegetarian, but all four tables held great big silver trays down the centre, piled high with rashers and bread rolls the size of Dudley’s face. Butter was placed in little dishes at strategic intervals, and there were large white and blue tea pots floating at head height, magically pouring out English Breakfast tea whenever a cup or mug was held up to the spout. 

“Uhhhh I love bacon,” Benji groaned happily as he flopped down in front of solid silver dinner plate. “Hot and greasy and salty and just so good!”

“Why doesn’t Hogwarts ever have any ketchup?” Dudley sighed as he slid onto the bench next his friend. Bacon sandwiches just weren’t the same without it in his opinion.

“What’s ketchup?”

“Tomato sauce in a bottle,” Dudley told him. “But not like, _tomato_ tomato. Well actually it _is_ tomato tomato, but it’s got like, other stuff in it? But not like other vegetables or anything. Oh I don’t know, Hermione or Harry will explain it better that me.”

“They should be down be down in a few minutes,” Benji yawned, grabbing one of the massive rolls and tearing it in half. Crust crumbs rained down over his plate, many of them bouncing off and ending up on the table or in his lap. “Do you want some this? I don’t think I can eat a whole one myself!”

“Yeah, give it here,” Dudley snorted back as he brushed some of the crumbs off his arm. Grabbing a mug, he then helped himself to tea, splashing some milk and half a spoon of sugar in it, and once he’d taken a nice big sip, began splitting his half of the roll lengthways so he could butter it and fill it.

“Uhhhh I love bacon,” Ron groaned happily as he suddenly flopped down in front of another solid silver dinner plate opposite them.

“Hot and greasy and salty and just so good?” Benji asked with a smirk.

“You,” Ron grinned, pointing across the table. “You get it.”

“Morning guys,” Dudley mumbled once he’d had taken a bite; Justin, Hannah and Ernie had just arrived too. They mumbled their own half-awake greetings and filled the remaining places at the table quickly.

“You guys alright?” Ron frowned as he began breaking his own roll into manageable portions. “You lot sound upset?”

“It’s Friday,” Justin grimaced before Dudley could reply himself. “We’ve got double potions first thing.”

“Oh, sorry,” Ron grimaced back in consolation. “Snape is the worst, isn’t he?”

“The great bloody bat!” Fred and George unexpectedly chanted together as they paused behind Ron, Harry, and Ernie. 

“Swooping back and forth…”

“...His robes a-swishing!”

“For him to trip over them…!”

“….Is what we’re all wishing!”

“Splat!” They ended together. 

Dudley giggled quietly, as did Harry, Neville, and Ron; the Weasley twins could really be quite funny, so long as your weren’t their target or one of the more unfortunate bystanders.

“I don’t think you should be talking about a teacher like that,” Hermione frowned. “Even if it is Snape…”

“Oh don’t worry ickle firstie,” one of the twins grinned, patting the top of her afro fondly. “Not even the Slytherins really like him. You can say what you like!”

“And our Professor McGonagall has it in for him too!” the other continued. “She always storming to his office to yell at him! So even if someone did grass you up, you could just go running to our favourite evil kitty-cat witch for protection.”

“Why is he still allowed to teach then!?” Justin grumbled hotly. 

“Two words, my baby badger…”

“...Albus Dumbledore!”

“We’ve tried cornering our excellently bearded mad professor-in-charge over the matter, but all he would say is something about lots of socks and the power of love.”

“Oh and also, apparently enough students get reasonable OWLs and NEWTs in potions for the Ministry not to intervene. Damn shame really.”

“Personally kiddies, we recommend self-study.”

“Find a nice secluded hidey-hole in the castle…”

“...Make sure it’s well ventilated!”

“And do your own brewing practice in secret!”

“Okay well that’s _definitely_ against the rules,” Hermione sighed, though she did look wistful and like she was considering it anyway.

“Oh my dear Hermione,” they crooned together again.

“The thing is…”

“...No one cares about the rules!”

“Bye now firsties!” they finished, sliding away in-sync dramatically. “Don’t get caught!”

“One day, I’m going to be that cool,” Benji sighed adoringly.

* * *

They’d all been sat around the breakfast tables for just over half an hour when the morning post finally arrived in a swoop of owls. 

Dudley looked up as they flew overhead, hoping to spot Hercules. He didn’t get much post as he only had two people to write to – his parents and Piers, both of which involved sending letters via the wixen-interchange Post Office. It consequently took best part of a week (if not more) to send a letter and receive a reply. 

He therefore wasn’t surprised when he couldn’t find his tiny cranky baby amongst the flying mass of feathers and rolled parchment.

What he _was_ surprised by, was the sight of Hedwig heading straight for them carrying a very long box. If Dudley could say that _he_ got almost no post, then _Harry_ could say he got none at all!

“Heads up!” he called as Hedwig reached them, no-one else having recognised the snowy owl as Harry’s. 

There was a flurry of scrambled movement then as they all tried to catch the dropped parcel before it ended up in the bacon.

Dudley, having been just before where it ended up landing, immediately began helping Hannah and Hermione move the trays and things from below it, so that Harry, Ron, Nev, and Benji could lower it to the table. They got it settled quickly, and then Harry set about turning it over so he could get to the label tied to the wrapping.

“I never get post?” his cousin breathed in bafflement as he tugged the note loose and unfolded it.

“Who’s it from?” Ron asked quickly, peering over Harry’s shoulder to read it too. “I swear I know that handwriting!”

“It’s Professor McGonagall’s!” Harry blurted in sudden realisation. “She hasn’t signed it, but I recognise her writing!”

All nine of them turned to peer up at the head table at once.

The Deputy Headmistress smiled serenely back at them all, one hand gently petting a very pleased looking Hedwig’s cheek. When they all continued staring, she lifted her goblet and raised an eyebrow meaningfully. 

Harry suddenly stared undoing the package’s string bindings, and the sound had them all turning back to look at their table immediately. Once untied, the box’s wooden lid popped up and Harry shoved it all the way off with a gasp.

“It’s a broomstick!” Dudley’s cousin gasped, his mouth hanging open.

“That’s not just _any_ broom,” Ron goggled with his eyes wide. “That’s a Nimbus 2000! The fastest racing broom ever!”

* * *

Potions was much more bearable than usual given that every student in it was smug with the knowledge that Slytherin were _definitely_ going to loose to Gryffindor in the first quidditch match of the year now. 

Even Anthony, who Dudley was once again working with and who usually didn’t care a whit for any sort of sport, was smirking every time someone else whispered _Nimbus 2000_ behind Snape’s back. 

Snape kept threatening to give them all detention, but it didn’t stop anyone from doing it. Especially as he wasn’t actually handing out any of the promised punishments.

* * *

When lunch finally rolled around and he and Benji left Charmed Objects (more levitation, this time seeing if they could extend the spell’s effect to items they attached to the original), they followed what seemed like the entire school out onto the back lawn that lead down to the stadium.

“Is this about Potter’s new broom?” Zarr muttered to them grumpily as he tagged along behind them. Dudley was surprised he hadn’t immediately vanished as soon as their Charms lesson was over, but he wasn’t complaining either. Zarr was alright, aside from being permanently miserable.

“Yeah, he told us at breakfast he was gonna come out here and try it out!” Benji bounced uselessly on his toes, still unable to see past any of the other students (who were _all_ taller than him). “Guess someone must have spread the word and now everyone wants to see him fly it!”

“Come on, let’s find Harry and the others,” Dudley decided. 

Successfully having pushed through to the front of the crowd, they eventually found the Hufflepuff wixens but none of the Gryffindors. Dudley presumed they still hadn’t gotten out of Transfiguration as he couldn’t see any first year Ravenclaw wixen either, whom they shared the class with. 

“Blimey, even the professors are coming out,” Ernie whistled as he pointed across to Flitwick and Madam Hooch, who were deep in conversation.

“We probably shouldn’t have opened the broom’s box in the Great Hall in front of everyone,” Justin cringed. “This is ridiculous!”

The murmuring of the crowd changed pitch then, picking up in volume. Ron appeared first, shoving his way between two sneering Slytherin fourth years, but the other Gryffindors were close behind him. Seamus and Dean where stood to either side of Harry, doing their best to stop older students from looming right over him in order to touch his new, amazing broom, while Hermione, Emil, and Neville brought up the rear.

Dudley rushed over quickly to help. 

“Honestly, it’s just a broomstick,” Hermione huffed once they’d extricated Harry from the crowd. “Anyone could buy one!”

“You’re underestimating their worth just a tad there Hermione,” Ron snorted. “Go on Harry, hop on and give us a show!”

Harry grinned like a maniac and did just that.

* * *

The crowd soon dispersed once Harry had done a lap to the forest’s edge and back, showing off a bit on his return with a couple of loop-de-loop and barrel rolls. Some of the more enthusiastic students came over and tried to beg him for a go, but Harry politely declined and kept shaking his head until all but their own friendship group had given up and left to go eat.

Or almost all anyway. Because it was at that point that Malfoy and his two minions shouldered his way right up to Harry with an angry look.

“Think you’re special Potter?” the Slytherin sneered.

“No need to just _think_ it with this in my hand,” Harry retorted straight away.

“If even you can get special flying privileges, then so can I! My father’s on the school board, you know!”

“Actually I didn’t know, but then I tend not to bother memorising useless information.”

Dudley found himself grinning, silently egging Harry on; ten years of McGonagall’s care and tutoring had honed Harry’s naturally sharp whit well. _And_ taught him how to stand his ground and use it.

“Haha Potter,” Malfoy drawled sarcastically. “You’re so funny.”

“Thank you! I’ll make sure everyone knows I have your endorsement! Would you like to sponsor my team and I too? I’m sure daddy will lend you the money if you ask him nicely.”

“Leave my father out of this!”

“I’m confused,” Harry smirked harder, crossing his arms. “I thought your dad being on the school board was important? Or did you change your mind again?”

“You know what, let’s settle this like wixen,” Malfoy snarled. “The trophy room at midnight tonight, winners of the duel get to keep the Nimbus and their honour. You lot don’t show, you _all_ forfeit.”

“No way! Midnight is after curfew and you know it,” Justin snapped, stepping up to Harry left.

“What? You scared you little baby Huffleprat? Well at least we now all know why you ended up in the loser’s house.”

“Piss off snake.”

“Gladly,” Malfoy mock-bowed, already walking away backwards. “See you at midnight losers!”

“He’s such a bloody git,” Ron growled as they all glared at Malfoy’s retreating back.

“Amen to that,” Zarr muttered quietly from the back of the group.

* * *

Hermione had tried to talk them all out of going, but Dudley had known she was wasting her breath; when Harry was issued a challenge, he got almost as bullheaded as Dudley knew he did himself. And Dudley was feeling pretty stubborn right now; no-one threatened his cousin and got away it. 

But they did agree that it would be pretty stupid for _all_ of them to go; a group that large sneaking about would be caught way to easily. 

So they came to an agreement.

Justin and Hannah decided they would stay in The Sett to act as look outs – They didn’t want Zach or any of the older years finding out what they were planning on doing, so they needed someone to make sure the common room stayed empty after eleven thirty. Neville then volunteered to do the same for all the Gryffindors, which lead to Seamus, Dean, and Emil also agreeing to stay behind.

This meant that at five to midnight, it was a group of only six that crept into the pitch black trophy room that was currently on the fifth floor. Three Gryffindors and three Hufflepuffs. Hopefully Malfoy would only bring Crabbe and Goyle so they could get this over and done with quickly.

“This is _stupid!”_ Hermione hissed for about the eighth time once they’d been waiting for ten minutes or so. 

“Well why did you come then!?” Ron whispered back agitatedly as he huddled with Benji behind a wooden bookcase. 

“Because you’re all rule-breaking _idiots_ and I’m trying to keep you out of trouble!”

“Keep it down!” Harry hissed at them both.

The door creaked open lowly, and they all held their breath and ducked further behind the display cabinets.

“Guys? Potter?” A familiar voice breathed anxiously into the darkness.

“Zarr?” Ernie hissed back in surprise.

“Yes! You have to go! Malfoy’s not coming, it’s a trick! I heard him laughing about it in our common room!”

“I _told_ you!” Hermione growled. 

“Let’s just give it another minute, he might have changed his mind and decided to come anyway,” Harry grumbled, still sounding riled up and annoyed.

“No really, we have to go now!” Zarr hissed. “Malfoy snitched on you to Filtch, said he overheard you planning to sneak out tonight! He and his weird cat are already coming to catch you!”

“Seriously I told you this would happen,” Hermione whispered through gritted teeth as they all hastily scrambled for the door. 

“Shhhh,” Zarr whispered as he poked his head out into the corridor. “It’s Friday! Who’s got the closest common room, we can all go there!”

“Gryffindor, two floors up!” Dudley breathed back.

“Moving staircases,” Ron nodded towards the square tower with wide, panicked eyes. “Fastest way up!”

They slipped out one after another and darted down the corridor as quietly as possible. Thankfully all of the portraits were still busy snoring, and none of the castle ghosts seemed to be out and about.

“That one, it goes straight up,” Benji breathed a sigh of relief as they hurried out onto the fifth floor landing. Harry jumped onto the aforementioned staircase first and they quickly followed him up, trying to keep low and quiet as they climbed.

Then the staircase groaned to life beneath their feet. They were only half way up.

“No, no, no,” Zarr whispered with obvious panic. “It’s changing to go down!”

They all clung to the banister as the staircase rotated and began to change angle. It flattened out as it slipped past the level point, and then unfolded again to point lower. 

Finally, it ground to a halt against the landing two floors down. 

“Now what?” Ernie shook. 

A cackle of laughter and a clatter above them. The fifth floor corridor. Peeves.

“Come on, we can’t go back!” Harry ordered, quietly hurrying off down the rest of the stairs. “We’ll just have to hide until Peeves has gone!”

“Quick, try that door!” Ron pointed out as they all raced to follow him. 

The door was stiff and creaked as it opened, but Peeves’ manic giggling was getting closer and they could now hear Filtch’s boots somewhere below them too. 

So they scrambled through it anyway.

The corridor beyond it looked more like a long empty vault than a hallway. It was lit only be the weak moonlight filtering in from tiny dusty windows on the left, and there were thick grimy cobwebs hung from the ceiling like great draping curtains. No portraits were hung on the wall, and no carpet ran along the stone floor.

“This is creepy,” Dudley whimpered a little, following the others as they moved further in. 

“Oh no,” Ron cringed, stepping back so they were all huddled closer together “This is the third floor corridor, isn’t it!?” 

“The third floor corridor!? But at the welcome feast Dumbledore said-!”

An angry meow screeched at them from behind. Dudley bit off mid-sentence and whipped around in panic. 

“We didn’t shut the door behind us!” Zarr gasped in horror “It’s Filtch’s cat!”

“Run!” Harry half-yelled, his face alarmed.

They ran. 

“Another door!” Benji shouted as they sprinted onwards, the dust growing even thicker. “Let’s hide again!”

Ron pounced on it as soon as they reached it. 

“It’s locked!” he cried.

“Move!” Hermione demanded urgently, whipping her wand out. _“Alohomora!”_

The lock clicked open with a metallic clunk, and the seven of them threw themselves through it and yanked it closed behind them.

_“Alohomara?”_ Ernie asked with a frown as they all caught their breath.

“Standard book of spells, chapter seven,” Harry shrugged. “What? I read ahead too!”

“Shut up!” Zarr hushed them again, his ear pressed to the wood of the door. 

They fell silent, crowding around him tightly as the Slytherin concentrated. After about a minute he moved his head back and nodded.

“Filtch and the cat have gone,” he breathed out in relief. 

“Wonder why this door was locked?” Ron asked as he stepped back from the group to give everyone more space.

“Um-!” Harry started from next him, facing the other way. “Probably because-!”

Dudley turned around too.

And a giant three headed dog woke up.

Dudley screamed. Dudley turned and ran.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight delay in posting as a big website thing at work broke and loads of customers were complaining so I had to work some over time to get it fixed. Life of the IT guy I'm afraid 😄

After the utter madness of the duel-that-never-happened, the group collectively decided to keep their heads down and stick to their school work for a bit. They would all be perfectly happy to forget that they ever encountered a giant, angry three-headed dog, thank you very much. 

So they went to classes, whispered about the three headed dog, did homework in the library, whispered about the three headed dog, moaned about Snape and potions, whispered about the three headed dog, and planned and executed a sleep over in Gryffindor tower.

Where they spent half the night whispering to each other about the giant, angry three headed dog.

Before they knew it, four whole weeks had passed and they’d managed to completely forget about the giant three headed dog! 

Not. 

(But seriously. How do you forget about the time you were almost eaten by a giant three headed dog? Inquiring young minds want to know!)

“We found it!” Dudley suddenly crowed to the rest of the table. 

They were in the library once again, sharing notes on potions as they all tried to tackle Snape’s latest gruelling essay demand; at least six whole inches on the properties of the scales from a horned serpent, and what effects they had when added to _three_ different types of skin potion. 

But Dudley and Benji had decided they needed a break before they went insane and had instead gone to scour the Creature Care and Defence stacks for any mention of, you guessed it, giant three headed dogs. Bringing back an armful of books each, they’d then spent the last twenty minutes rapidly flicking through each one until Dudley had finally hit the jackpot.

“It’s called a Cerberus!” he read out eagerly as everyone abandoned their potions essays and scrabbled over to him to look. “Native to Greece, these fearsome beasts are a force to be reckoned with. While the- the legend is now fading to myth even amongst Greek skol- scholars, they are said by the Ancient Greek wixen to have once been the guardians to the underworld. When one Cerberus failed in it’s duty, the Greek spirit of the underworld expelled- ha! That’s Hermione’s favourite word! Expelled!”

“Dudley!” Hermione protested with a roll of her eyes.

“Sorry,” he grinned cheekily. “The Greek spirit of the underworld expelled the whole species to the planet’s surface. They have been dwindling in numbers ever since and are now very rate creatures.”

“And?” Harry asked when Dudley stopped reading. 

“That’s it,” Dudley shrugged. “There isn’t any more.”

“But why the bloody hell are they keeping one in the school!” Ron groaned. “Especially if they’re so rare! Shouldn’t it be in a conservation sanctuary? My brother works at one of those with dragons.”

“Well the book says they’re guardians,” Hermione pointed out. “So it’s probably guarding the trapdoor it was stood on.”

They all looked at each other silently.

“There was _trapdoor!?”_

“What do mean it was stood on a trapdoor!?”

“When did you have time to look at its feet!?”

“A bloody trapdoor she says, like we haven’t been talking about this four weeks!”

“Children!” Madam Rosemary the librarian suddenly barked at them all. “Last warning before I kick you all out! This is a place of _quiet_ study!”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” they all whispered variations of with a wince. 

“Seriously though ‘mione,” Ron repeated much more quietly. “There’s a trapdoor in the dog room and you didn’t think to mention it until now?”

“I thought you’d all seen it too!” she whispered back hotly. 

“Well we didn’t,” Ernie sighed. “Too busy trying to avoid getting eaten.”

“I’m still so glad I didn’t come with you,” Neville smiled weakly as he moved back to his seat. The others followed his example and also returned to their places around the table. 

“Yeah you’d have wet yourself mate,” Ron snorted. “Almost did myself n’ all.”

“Potions essays,” Justin reminded them all sternly, picking his quill back up. “Has anyone got the book with all the stirring patterns in it? And has anyone found any information on the effects of scale placement?”

* * *

Despite sneaking out at night to warn them of Malfoy’s mean prank and then facing mortal peril with them, Timothy Zarr’s habits didn’t change much.

He still sat silently next to Dudley in nearly every class they shared, he still followed one step behind them as they moved between classes despite Benji’s repeated invitations to walk _with_ them, and he still vanished immediately after lessons most afternoons unless Dudley managed to almost physically drag him to the library with them. 

And most days he was somehow able slip away before Dudley could manage that. 

They didn’t even know what he was eating or who he was eating with, as the only meals he ever seemed to show up to were the weekday dinners when school rules forced them to sit at their house tables. Zarr always sat right on the end of the Slytherin table more or less on his own.

He and Benji had tried looking around the school for him at lunch times after they’d eaten, as well as some evenings when they’d finished in the library. But the Slytherin had either gone straight back to his dorm room every time, or he’d found somewhere in the school to go that was very well hidden. 

Dudley had even tried asking him outright once, but all he’d gotten was a silent blank look before he’d turned back to his Charms notes. And then he’d vanished again as soon as Professor Flitwick told them they could pack up and go.

* * *

This finally changed when Dudley’s and Benji’s brilliant plan backfired horribly.

* * *

“I think I have an idea. I’m going to talk to my brother,” Benji sighed as he stuck his hand in Dudley’s bag of Bassetts Jelly Babies. Dudley had gotten them in another parcel from his mother and then quickly swapped them with his tiny best mate for a packet of wixen Fizzing Whizzbees; not only did they taste great, but he loved the way they made you float for a few seconds. 

“Rian? Why? What plan?” Dudley asked, shifting uncomfortably on the black common room sofa. The fire had been stoked to full roaring by the fifth year girls and he was too warm. 

“About Zarr!” Benji told him. “I know he’s seventeen now and Zarr’s only eleven, but we could ask Rian to look after him! At least in the morning, make him come to breakfast and then sit with us maybe?”

“Benji that’s brilliant!” Dudley gasped. “If Zarr’s got a sixth year with him, then Malfoy will have to leave him alone! I’m sure that blonde git is bullying him!”

“I know, I bet he is! Did you see the mark he had on his arm this morning in Defence? It looked like he’d been hit by a boil hex!”

“Is that what that was?” 

“Yeah, one that hadn’t been reversed and healed properly. I wanted to tell him we’d go with him to Madam Pomfrey to get it seen to, but he ran off again before I could. How does he do that? It’s like he vanishes into thin air!”

“No idea,” Dudley shrugged, steadily growing warmer. He really was going to have to take his jumper off. 

“Well anyway, tomorrow morning before we go to art, we should go find Rian and tell him we think Zarr’s being bullied.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Dudley grinned.

* * *

So they did.

And Rian frowned and said yes, of course he would. Because Rian was a good brother who didn’t like bigots or bullies. And thought his house was half full of idiots with superiority complexes. 

And Dudley and Benji had said thank-you and gone off to Arts. 

And Zarr had sleuthed in last like he always did, and taken the empty seat like to Dudley like normal.

And then done the same again in Muggle Technomancy afterwards. 

And then vanished at lunch. As usual. 

And then because Dudley and Benji’s afternoon classes were with some and then all of the Gryffindors, they had no idea that everything had gone horribly wrong until they had Muggle Tech again the next morning.

* * *

Dudley and Benji were the first to arrive in the Tech Hall outside the Muggle studies and Technomancy classroom that morning. This wasn’t unusual, but neither was it common. It was simply something that happened on occasion.

What _was_ a deviation from the norm, was Zarr showing up not thirty seconds later looking quite a ways beyond his usual mere _a little worse for the wear_.

“Bloody hell,” Dudley gasped as the Slytherin boy came staggering in from the first floor corridor.

“What did you do!” Zarr immediately spat, his face half purple and a trickle of blood running down from his eyebrow. He was cradling his arm against his chest too, the two fingers that were visible looking swollen and out of shape.

“Wha-!?” Dudley gawped. “What did-? No wait, you have to go to the Hospital Wing!”

“Everything was fine!” Zarr shouted, tears in his eyes as he stepped back. “I was coping, I could handle it! And then you had to interfere! Your _stupid_ brother trying to intervene just made everything worse! As soon as his back was turned they all came back! You think it’s just the people in our year, but it’s not! I hate it here, and I hate it here and I hate you!”

“Zarr! Zarr wait!” 

But Zarr was already running off.

“Go after him!” Benji yelled, his own eyes wet. “Go! I’ll get a teacher and then I’ll find Harry!”

Dudley nodded and ran back out of the hall.

* * *

But even injured, Zarr was faster than Dudley could ever hope to be. By the time he made it back to the square moving-staircase tower, the other boy was long gone. And he could have gone anywhere from here; this was the central point of the castle.

With dull panic pounding in his chest, Dudley turned and ran to the one person who’d always known how to make things better.

Professor McGonagall.

The short and squat Transfiguration tower was accessed from the first floor Transfiguration corridor, with the main classroom at it’s base. Dudley was already on the first floor so he simply had to sprint across the landing into the other wing and then weave his way through the crowds of students making their way to their first classes. 

There was a small group of third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws already outside waiting to be let in, but Dudley shoved his way through them and slammed the door open.

“Dursley? What are you-?” one of the Hufflepuffs started to ask as he was knocked aside, a blonde haired boy with the lankiness of someone in the middle of a growth spurt. But Dudley was deaf to him, too intent on his goal.

“McGonagall! McGonagall!” he yelled as he barrelled into the room and staggered towards to her desk.

“Dudley! What is the meaning of-!? Oh my, what’s happened love?”

“It’s Zarr! I messed up!” Dudley sobbed as she met him halfway and collapsed against her. “He- He-!”

McGonagall waved her wand and shut the door in the staring third years’ faces, her other arm slipping over his shoulder as she guided him gently to a chair.

* * *

Once Dudley had managed to stutter out most of the tale, the Transfiguration professor had conjured a glowing silver cat and given it a message to send to the Headmaster and the other Head’s of Houses.

Then she’d ordered the blonde haired third year student (a Mr Diggory?) to hand out last week’s marked homework essays and start reading aloud the next chapter in their set book to the class. That organised, she’d declared that she was walking Dudley straight to the Hospital Wing and would be back later, and that she definitely would know if any of them even attempted to fool around in her absence.

“I was just trying to help,” Dudley hiccuped to Madam Promfrey once they’d arrived and McGonagall had explained what was happening.

“Mr Dursley, it sounds like you were just being a good friend,” the mediwitch consoled him softly as she handed him a small bar of Honeyduke’s chocolate to munch on slowly. “You did a nice thing for a friend in need and then got appropriate adult help when there were some unanticipated side effects. You couldn’t have foreseen this happening, okay? It’s not your fault.”

“I agree and the rest of the staff will do to, once I further explain the situation to them,” McGonagall added with a sharp nod. 

“He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?” Dudley sniffled. “You’re going to find him?”

“As Headmaster, Dumbledore holds the loyalty of the castle wards in his heart. They will work with him to find a student in need if asked to do so.”

“Really?”

“Yes Dudley, the castle protects it’s students. It would only hide young Mr Zarr from the Headmaster if it believed that doing so would cause him further harm. For instance if someone with ill-intent was coercing the headmaster into revealing a student. That is clearly not the case right now, so we shall locate him.”

“Dudders!” Benji suddenly exclaimed as he came sliding into the Hospital Wing just then.

“No unnecessary running in the infirmary, Mr O’Claw!” Madam Pomfrey scolded Benji lightly.

“Sorry miss!” Benji squeaked, skidding to a stop next to the bed Dudley was sat on the edge of. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes, but both mag-adj boys knew she was fond of them due to their lessons with her, so she let them get away with more than she did most.

“Are you okay?” the small boy asked as he leaned in to peer up at Dudley’s face.

“He’ll be just fine,” Madam Pomfrey patted his shoulder. “Now here we go Mr Dursley, this a diluted calming draught. Do you remember what we learnt about these last week?”

“Uh, they’re bright blue?” He frowned. “And well, obviously they’re for calming nerves and emotions. Um, you um, you give them to someone who has had recent trauma and is in shock, or- or someone who is currently experiencing distressing emotions like strong anxiety or panic. Wait, am I in shock!?”

“Only very mildly my dear,” she reassured him. “That’s why it’s diluted so much. Mr O’Claw, what do we dilute calming potion with?”

“Huh?” Benji startled. “Oh um, the purple stuff. Distilled lavender water!”

“A house point to each of you. Now drink it up, it’ll take the edge off your upset. Minerva dear…”

“Yes yes, I shall be off to assist the headmaster now. I expect you shall see me again shortly Poppy. Boys, behave yourselves and stay here until someone comes to collect you.”

Benji hopped up to sit on the bed next Dudley while he shuddered at the taste of the draught.

* * *

According to their watches, it was only twenty-five minutes but it felt like hours. Dudley and Benji were still sitting side by side when Dumbledore shuffled in with Zarr under his arm. McGonagall and Professor Snape were both following him, both of them frowning deeply.

The Slytherin boy was still crying quietly, but his arm was now supported by something that had been transfigured into a basic sling. The blood had dried on his forehead and cheek, still staining the bruised skin of his face, but the swelling was already reducing. He also looked much calmer now, despite the tears clinging to his eyelashes.

Dumbledore steered him gently to the bed opposite the one Dudley and Benji had claimed, and kneeled to slowly tug the boy’s boots off.

Madam Pomfrey was beside him in an instant, her wand already moving to cast what Dudley presumed were diagnostic spells. He’d never seen any before, but she’d talked about them in their lessons. Her brow pinched as she examined the weak flash of light and spray of sparks, but she didn’t let her displeasure colour her tone when she started speaking.

“You’ve had a rough few weeks, haven’t you Mr Zarr,” she smiled at him kindly. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll see about your arm.”

“With your permission, I’d like to inform your parents about this,” Dudley heard Dumbledore say softly as Madam Pomfrey conjured a damp wash cloth. “I am aware that they are very supportive of you and I think you would benefit from a visit from them.”

Zarr visibly swallowed and the nodded slowly. 

“Thank you my boy. I’m going to go and speak briefly with Messrs Dursley and O’Claw now, and then I’ll head to my office to fire call your parents. Will you be okay with Madam Pomfrey, or do you want your friends to come and sit with you for a while after I’ve had a word with them?”

This time when Zarr looked up from his lap, he seemed startled, as though he hadn’t noticed Dudley and Benji sat watching him quietly. Dudley waved self-consciously, still feeling guilty, but Benji immediately lit up in the big grin that he usually wore and waved much more enthusiastically.

Zarr mumbled something too quietly for Dudley to hear, but whatever it was made Dumbledore pat his knee and stand back up with another small smile. 

And then Dumbledore was walking towards he and Benji, a distant look in his eyes as if he were thinking particularly intently about something. Dudley wanted to ask what, but the look had gone by the time he reached them.

* * *

“Blimey! Is he okay?” Ron gasped as he held a chicken drumstick in one hand and a slice of white bread in the other. 

Dudley and Benji had missed History as well as Muggle Tech, as they’d been allowed to stay and talk to Zarr until Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall came back with two other adults. Tim hadn’t said much until then, -mostly just silently listening to Benji ramble on endlessly – but he’d burst into tears again when they’d arrived and almost launched himself out the bed into his mum and dad’s arms. 

Professor McGonagall had ushered the two Hufflepuffs out of the Hospital Wing then, escorting them to her office to wait until lunch began.

“Yeah, Madam Pomfrey healed him properly. Though she sent us into the potion store to do some mixing and diluting with Snape watching us while she did the actual bone setting and stuff, ‘cause of privacy and um, Benji what’s the word?”

“Confidentiality,” he nodded with a serious expression. “Healers take oaths not share the cause, extent, or recovery process from any injury, malady, or condition that any patient suffers from unless the patient or their authorised next of kin gives permission to in the case of incapacity.”

“Madam Pomfrey made us memorise the oath,” Dudley added when Harry and Ernie both looked confused.

“Sent you with Snape though? That’s a bit harsh,” Hannah smirked. 

“He didn’t say a lot to be honest,” Benji pulled a face. “Just insisted on double checking my dilute solution measurements before letting I mixed them into the actual potions.”

“Well he’s supposed to be Zarr’s head of house, isn’t he,” Hermione pointed out. “He’s probably feeling bad that he didn’t notice the bullying.”

“Snape? Feeling guilty?” Ernie snorted. “More likely he’s in trouble with Dumbledore for not noticing.”

“Or noticing it but ignoring it,” Harry grumbled. “Can we go see Zarr before afternoon classes do you think?”

“Probably not,” Dudley shook is head. “His parents are here.”

“Well we’ll go after classes then,” Harry nodded. “We can walk him to the Halloween and Samhain feast this evening!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to have the troll in it, but then some of the professors got carried away with being competent at the parts of their job other than teaching their subjects.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Samhain is an Irish Gaelic word and is therefore pronounced _sar-win._  
>  Halloween is pronounced as Halloween!

Astronomy with the Slytherins after lunch was considerably less diabolical than normal.

This was largely because half the Slytherins were absent. Malfoy and his goons, Nott, and Parkinson were all missing, leaving just Bullstrode, Greengrass, and a nervous looking Zabini behind. Professor Sinistra didn’t seem perturbed by their absence though, and pretty soon Dudley was swept up by the need to copy down all the names of the craters they’d be observing on the surface of the moon tonight. 

It was weird, he thought, how wixen were so far behind muggles in most science but somehow knew so much more about space and the universe. It was good though. Something Dudley could put in his occasional letter to Piers without worrying about breaking the stature of secrecy. 

(Even if it did make him sound like some kind of astrophysics nerd, or whatever it was that Piers had called him.)

Soon enough the lesson ended and Dudley got to rejoice in getting through the whole class without once having to dodge a hex from Malfoy or a swung arm from Crabbe or Goyle. Benji was smiling too, and Justin looked relieved as they skipped down the steps of the Astronomy tower. 

The mag-adjs had Defence and Theory next, and as there was only ever the one Slytherin in that class (and a nice one at that), Dudley was sure it would be delightfully tolerable too.

* * *

Not that Zarr was in this particular lesson, but Dudley hadn’t been expecting him to be. If he wasn’t still in the Hospital Wing, then he was probably in one of the Professors’ office’s with his parents, or quietly walking round the grounds with them. 

Dudley made sure to pay extra attention to the introductory lecture on recognising curse colours though, so that he could make really good notes that Zarr would be able to copy later.

* * *

“So do we go straight to the Hospital Wing, or go to the Library first?” Benji asked as they finally escaped the thick stench of garlic that filled the Defence classroom. 

Dudley paused to think about it.

“Library,” he decided, “And then if none of the others come meet us there, we can come back up to the Hospital Wing.”

“Sweet,” Benji agreed easily as they set off along the corridor. The defence room was on the third floor, but was in the other wing to the one with Cerberus hidden in it. As they walked towards the grand staircase, Dudley noted with some amusement that the Trophy Room had moved itself down here today; it did that sometimes, when it got bored on being on the fifth floor. 

It didn’t take them long to come out into the hallway that the main library entrance was found on. It was quite a short hallway, with dark wooden floorboards and the usual handful of shiny silver suits of armour and stone gargoyle carvings stood to attention along the walls.

Waving to Madam Pince on their way past, they soon made it to their usual table at the back of the first floor, right next to the Herbology reference books. Justin, Ernie, and Hannah were all there, but none of the Gryffindors had yet arrived. 

“Was Zarr in your classes this afternoon?” Hannah asked before they’d even had a chance to say hello. 

“No,” Dudley shook his head, pulling his bag strap off and then dropping into his usual seat. “Haven’t seen him since this morning when his parents got here.”

“I hope he’s alright,” Justin frowned over the top of the stack of books he’d already gotten out. First year Transfiguration and Charms study guides, Dudley noticed when he took a close look at their titles.

“Yeah, he will be,” Benji nodded with his usual optimism. “The Professors will stop the bullying in his wixen classes and his dorm room now, and we can still protect him the rest of the time.”

“Are we gonna wait for the Gryffindors before we go see him, or should we go straight to the hospital wing now?” Dudley asked. “Though I guess he’s probably not there any more.”

“We can’t all go to the Hospital Wing,” Justin pointed out. “There’s too many of us; Madam Pomfrey will throw a fit!”

“Okay so how about Dudley and Benji go now and see if he’s there while the rest of us wait to see if the Gryffindorks show up?” Ernie suggested. “Then some more of us can go half an hour after. Swap over, you know?”

“And if Zarr’s _not_ there,” Hannah nodded in agreement, “then they can come straight back here and we can think about where else he might be.”

“Sounds good to me!” Benji beamed, once again bouncing on his toes. “We can even bring the Gryffindors back too if they _did_ decide not to come here first!”

* * *

But Zarr was not in the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey helpfully informed the two boys that he and his parents had gone up to Professor Dumbledore’s office at lunch time, and had yet to return for Zarr’s evening check-up. She also shared, after Benji shamelessly puppy-eyed her, that Zarr was due to come back for said check-up just before the feast started this evening. 

With that information now in hand, he and Benji gushed their thanks and rushed back to the library to tell the others what they’d discovered.

Hopefully the Gryffindors had gotten there too now, as they definitely hadn’t been to the Infirmary themselves.

* * *

“Some of us should go the Hospital Wing just before dinner then,” Harry decided as they all began collating a list of what books they were likely to need for their homework this afternoon. “Then we can walk with him to the feast!”

“It’s a shame we’ll have to eat at our house tables,” Hermione sighed. “I’ve never been to a Samhain celebration before and it would’ve been nice to go to it as a group. Poor Zarr’s going to be stuck on his own!”

“I’m sure the Professors will have thought have something,” Justin shrugged. “Maybe his parents have been invited to the feast and will sit with him? But actually, I’d quite like to know about this Samhain stuff myself. Is there a book Hermione and I can have a look at?”

“My family does it every year,” Ernie offered at the same time Benji excitedly babbled “The O’Claws always celebrate Samhain, I could just tell you!”

“Don’t look at me, my family are wixen-Catholic,” Ron shrugged when Hermione turned to ask him too. “It’s Halloween and All Saints day to me.”

“There are pureblood Christian wixen?” Justin frowned. “I thought it was just us muggleborns?”

“Wixen religions are as diverse as muggle ones,” Dudley recounted, thinking back to his and Harry’s Saturday tutoring sessions. “The dominant religion in wixen Britain is Celtic Pagan, but there’s loads of Christians and non-doms, as well as as enough Jews, Muslims, Veratics, and Spiritualists to have cultural centres in the kingdom. There’s others of course, but those are the main ones.”

“Non-doms are the equivalent of atheists,” Harry added. “I think its short for non-denominational.”

“What’s a Veratic?” Hermione asked curiously. 

“Well you know how Celtic Paganism is similar to Muggle Nordic Paganism?” Harry continued, watching for Hermione and Justin’s nods. “Well Veratism is like that except its like a combination of Greek, Roman, and Ancient Egyptian gods instead of Nordic ones. There’s lots of different versions which all follow different groups of the gods, but they all believe they’re the only correct ones. They get into loads of nasty fights with each other other the groupings, which is why there’s only a handful of Veratics left in the UK and Ireland.”

“Oh! Veratism, from the Latin _veritas,_ meaning truth!” Hermione blurted, sitting bolt upright and looking pleased with her deduction. “They’re called Veratics because they think only they believe in the truth!”

“Hogwarts generally makes an effort to be inclusive,” Neville picked up then. “Which is why there’s lot of meditation rooms and stuff. But if it tried to have a holiday feast for every cultural celebration that came up, we’d be having feasts every night. Veratism and Spiritualism in particular have masses of them! That’s also why the school calender is based around the Pagan and Christian holidays; meets the needs of the majority.”

“Also it matches with the muggle school calender,” Harry explained. “Which makes it easier for muggleborns and Mag-adjs to blend in when they go home over the holidays.”

“That’s not to say they don’t make allowances for students from other religions,” Benji hummed as he finished emptying the contents of his satchel out onto the table, setting aside the electrical components he and Dudley would need to build their project for Technomancy. “Rian said his mate Hitzig comes from a super orthodox Jewish family, so she gets to go home in December earlier than the rest of us, and then she comes back to school before new year to do catch up work.”

“This is _fascinating!”_ Hermione breathed with wonder in her eyes. “So what about Samhain?” 

“It’s the Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter,” Benji ploughed onwards, looking very excited. “It’s a liminal festival acknowledging when the boundary between the living world and the otherworld is thinner than normal as it’s been stretched by the alignment of the Earth and Sun. This means the _Aos Sí_ can move across it between the planes of life and death. We have to appease them by leaving out offerings and building bonfires to honour them, otherwise they can spoil the harvest we just reaped, and leave our livestock to die and us to starve.”

“Wixen Halloween is basically the same,” Ron yawned while he shoved a Transfiguration book to one side. “Just that Catholics believe that God bolsters the magic of Life and Death tonight so that we can touch the souls of those already ascended to heaven. Not sure I believe in god myself, but its a family tradition so whatever.”

“And _both_ religions recognise the warding power of pumpkins and sugar,” Dudley contributed. “Eating lots of sugary foods stops evil spirits-”

“-The malevolent _Aos Sí!”_ Benji interjected.

“- well it stops them from trying to possess you for the night, while pumpkins can be used to trap the evil ones so long as they have a flame in them to attract them and a lid to keep them in.”

“You mean you literally _have_ to eat loads of sweets and chocolate!” Hermione gasped with glee. “Oh wait until I tell my parents! They’ll never buy boring healthy treats that no one ever wants for the trick or treaters ever again!”

“The what?” Benji pulled a confused face. “Trick or what?”

“Wixen don’t go trick or treating, and they don’t do fancy dress,” Harry chuckled. “Professor McGonagall knew about it because her dad was a muggle, but Mr Albus was fascinated!”

* * *

They ended up staying in the Library much longer than they usually would, chatting about all sorts of different festivals and celebrations, wixen and muggle alike. For once, neither Hermione or Justin were strict about them doing their homework first, so it wasn’t until almost six o’clock that they finally packed up and dashed off to their respective dorm rooms to drop off their bags and collect their formal wixen hats for dinner. 

According to the notice boards in their common rooms, they should be in their seats by ten past six so that the feast could start at quarter past. And then school bonfire would lit at seven-thirty once the sun was fully set and night had fallen. Zarr was due to return back to the Hospital ward any moment now, so he and Benji had to hurry if they wanted to make it to meet him on time _and_ not be late for dinner. 

Not that they _had_ to go to the feast or be there for the start; participation in religious celebrations were completely optional at Hogwarts after all. 

But all of the Hufflepuffs did want to be on time, so they grabbed what they needed and legged it back out into the kitchen corridor as fast as they could manage. 

At least they didn’t have to run up to the seventh floor and back like the others did!

* * *

Of course, as was starting to become an unfortunate habit, it didn’t entirely go to plan.

* * *

Mr and Mrs Zarr were still in the Hospital Wing when the group of yellow and black clad first years finally arrived. 

Madam Pomfrey tutted at them and reminded them _again_ that they weren’t supposed to run in the halls, but she grudgingly let the whole lot of them in once Mrs Zarr expressed an avid and friendly interest in meeting them all. 

(Madam Pomfrey looked even more resigned when the Gryffindor crowd also showed up a minute later begging to be let in too.)

“Well isn’t this wonderful!” Mrs Zarr greeted them all warmly as they crowded around Zarr’s bed. “Tim you should have said you had so many friends! You only mention Messrs Dudley and Benji this afternoon!”

Mrs Zarr looked almost exactly like her son did, except with softer features and longer hair. The whole family seemed to share the midnight-black lcoks, angular jaws and pale skin, though Mr Zarr’s eyes were green instead of brown and his face was covered with a set of long red scars that cut from his left brow all the way down to the base of his right cheek. 

Tim Zarr mumbled something inaudible under his breath in response to his mother, accompanied by huffily crossed arms and a half shrug.

“I’m Callisto Zarr, and this is my husband Jonathan,” Zarr’s mother continued with a warm smile. “It’s very nice to finally meet the people Timothy has mentioned in his letters. Though he should have mentioned there was more than two of you!”

“Mum,” the youngest Zarr mumbled, obviously embarrassed. 

“The school is brilliant, isn’t it!” Mr Zarr picked up then. “I’ve never been here before obviously, though my Callisto has told me many tales of its excellence. I’m still so grateful to the Headmaster for giving Tim the opportunities I wasn’t.”

“Are you a squib then too Mr Zarr?” Benji asked, his eyes wide with curiousity.

“I am indeed son,” Mr Zarr grinned back. “Even got disowned for it eventually on my sixteenth birthday, but the Scamander family took me in and gave me a job helping in their conservation business. And that’s how I met my beautiful Callisto!” 

“The Zarr family name is mine and I have no problem at all gifting it to such a fine man,” Mrs Zarr smiled widely. “Kind and generous he is, just like our boy is growing up to be!”

“You were disowned!?” Ernie gasped. “That’s awful!”

Ernie, being from the slightly reserved pureblood Macmillan family – which belonged to the so-called sacred twenty-eight – still didn’t 100% grasp that blood family wasn’t the be all and end all for a lot of people.

“My parents and siblings were of the Avery family,” Mr Zarr snorted. “I consider myself well shot of them! Horrible bunch, honestly.”

“Big supporters of you-know-who,” Dudley heard Ron mutter to Hermione.

“Meanwhile my family line are considered blood-traitors almost on par with the Weasleys and Prewetts,” Mrs Zarr beamed, obviously proud of the fact. “Which is apparently doubly scandalous given that Timothy is now the fifth generation of the Zarr family to be sorted into Slytherin.”

“Yeah, that’s why everyone hates me mum,” Tim Zarr grumbled. “Squib son of a squib from a family of blood traitors that had the audacity to be placed in the pure house.”

“You are perfect just the way you are honey,” Mrs Zarr smiled down at him, reaching out to clasp his hand. “Their silly narrow-minded ideas of supremacy are just that, silly and narrow-minded. Honestly if they can’t grasp that ambition and cunning can be used just as well to serve progress, they shouldn’t be considered cunning themselves! Now I would dearly like to know all your names! And perhaps who your parents are so we can plan some sleepovers for during the Yule holidays! We’d love to have some of you visit!”

“Mum!” Tim Zarr whined again, his face flushing red. “Can’t we just go the Samhain feast already!?”

* * *

Of course, as Dudley had said earlier, their trip to the Grand Hall didn’t entirely go to plan.

For one, Mrs Zarr really did want to know all their names and home addresses so she could write to their parents. For another Dudley found himself asking about the Scamander family which set Mr Zarr off on a long spiel about magical creatures and how misunderstood many of them were. 

And well basically, the feast had already been underway a good thirty minutes before Madam Pomfrey grew tired of waiting for them to leave on their own account and shooed them all out of the Wing. Zarr’s parents and all. 

Which if you are familiar with the tales from that other universe (or perhaps if you are from that other reality entirely yourself), should lead you to the correct conclusion regarding what happened next.

It should be noted at this point, that unlike common misconception, the Hospital wing is on the fourth floor of Hogwarts, not the first or ground floor. This not only allowed the infirmary to be close to the centre of the castle where it could be equidistant from every tower, basement, and classroom, but also close to the castle’s central lodestone, where magical affinity was at it’s strongest.

(Very useful, if you’re trying to undo complex hexes and curses, or simply powering a spell with which to heal a broken bone as fast as possible.)

At least in this universe there were not three first years alone, but ten of them from three houses accompanied by two adults, one of whom was a well practised witch descended from a long line of equally accomplished witches.

* * *

“Ohhhh my gooood,” Dudley warbled in mild terror as they scrambled along the third floor Defence corridor away from the great lumbering monster. The whole castle seemed to shake beneath their feet as its club slammed into one of the moving staircases and shattered its stones.

“Well this is exciting!” Mr Zarr grinned as he _stood still and watched_ his wife blast the- the _troll_ with a series of high-powered stunners. “Aim for its eyes dear! That ought to make it mad!”

Honestly, Dudley thought as all of ten of them frantically dived into an empty bathroom to hide, it was no wonder that Mr Zarr’s face and arms were covered in scars if his reaction to seeing a dangerous creature out of control was to stand and helplessly grin at it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now you know why Zarr was getting bullied! :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has only been half proof read. Read at your own risk 😂

“Children!”

Dudley and Harry looked at each other, huddling under a sink together. 

“She doesn’t sound mad?” Dudley grimaced questioningly. That was definitely McGonagall shouting, and McGonagall usually didn’t mean good things. _Usually._

“The troll has stopped roaring,” Hermione said after a second, cocking her head as she listened. “And I can’t hear smashing any more.”

“Children!?” McGonagall called again from somewhere closer by; she must be just outside of the bathroom. 

Harry looked at Dudley again with a frown.

“In here!” his cousin then yelled, his wand still raised. 

“My goodness!” McGonagall exclaimed as she pushed her way into the small girl’s bathroom in a hasty bustle of robes, her eyes wide and her wand brandished firmly before her. “Are you all okay my dears?”

“They appear to be intact, yes,” Snape drawled with an eye roll as he followed the Transfiguration professor in rather more calmly. A smiling Professor Sprout was close on his heels, while Professor Quirrell nervously hovered in the doorway.

“We’re okay Professors,” Benji squeaked as he unwedged himself and crawled out from behind Ernie and Hannah. “Not a scratch on us, promise miss!”

“Well in all my days,” McGonagall shook her head, her shoulders drooping with obvious relief as she lowered her wand. “Three points to each of you, for having the good sense to run away and hide.”

“Are my mum and dad okay?” Zarr asked nervously, hovering behind Dudley and Harry. They’d all scrambled to their feet now, and the wixen among them were busy pushing wands back into pockets and holsters. Dudley took the moment to fruitlessly try and brush some of the dust off of his robe and the knees of his white trousers.

“We’re fine honey!” Mr Zarr’s voice echoed from down the corridor. 

“Professor Flitwick and your mother are moving the troll dear,” Professor Sprout spoke up. “It’s safely unconscious now, and will be for some time.”

“Right well,” McGonagall cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders and looking much more like her usual stern self. “Time to head back to your common rooms I believe. I think with the stairs still in disrepair, I shall escort you all.”

“Oh don’t worry Minerva, I can take my House and Mr Zarr down,” Sprout interjected, patting her colleague’s arm fondly. “It’ll save you from doubling back on yourself.”

“A sensible idea Pomona,” McGonagall smiled back. “Come along then lions, the feast has been transported upstairs and I am sure you’re all hungry.”

“Bloody starving,” Ron groaned in his usual longing tone.

* * *

Zarr had disappeared with Snape and his father down into the dungeons once they’d reached the ground floor. Professor Sprout had quickly levitated them all down over the rubble of the stairways, and then hustled the rest of them down into the basement with her usual cheerful demeanour. 

Tonks and Abioye, the two seventh year Hufflepuff prefects met them at the barrel door, and then there was Halloween and Samhain food and sweets to gorge themselves on, a mini bonfire in a metal tub to dance around, and a billion and one questions from older students to answer. 

All in all, despite the bad start to the day, the questionable middle, and the terrifying conclusion, Dudley found himself quite relaxed and content as he settled down for the night, tucked into his cosy bed with Benji nearby and a belly full of sugar and (definitely doctored) Hufflepuff hot chocolate.

* * *

Despite their hopes, lessons were _not_ cancelled the next day.

Dudley supposed he ought to count himself lucky that they’d gotten out of going to yesterday’s late-night astronomy at least. And that the moving stairs had already been mostly repaired, bar a few stubborn chunks that apparently didn’t want to go back to being stairs yet.

“I can’t believe we’ve still got to go to potions after a troll tried to kill us,” Ernie moaned as he stirred his chocolate milkshake with a sugar straw. 

“Snape’s as bad a troll,” Harry mumbled into his toast. “Greasy, rotten smell and all.”

“Worse,” Ron lamented. “At least trolls can’t insult you while they’re pointlessly yelling.”

“He really is a bully,” Hermione sighed forlornly. “Surely there’s something we can do about him? Fred and George said that McGonagall hates his teaching too right? Maybe she’ll help if we can come up with a plan.”

“Everyone hates his teaching,” Zarr groaned as he suddenly appeared and slid into the empty spot next to Dudley and opposite Justin. “Everyone except Malfoy and Nott anyway. And probably some of the older Slytherins, but a lot of them complain too.”

“Zarr!” Dudley exclaimed happily. “You’re finally sitting with us!” 

“Here, have some tea,” Justin grinned as well, pushing an empty mug at the boy. “How are your parents? Wait, is that them sat at the staff table?”

“Um, yeah. And you err, you can call me Timothy you know,” the dark haired boy blushed. “Or just Tim.”

“Now we just need to acquire a Ravenclaw,” Ron snorted as he added another three sausages and a fried tomato to his plate.”

“Duds can kidnap Anthony,” Benji wiggled his eyebrows up and down while the rest of them laughed.

* * *

Potions was as ghastly as expected, as Snape was in even more of a foul mood than usual. He swept up and down the rows of desks and cauldron stations with an unyielding glare, criticising everyone’s work heavy handedly and with no remorse.

No lavender sprig was separated neatly enough, no flobberworm mucus compressed to the right density. No flames stoked to the right temperature, or cauldrons hung at the correct height. 

Things escalated even further when Benji and Ernie got their half-finished sleeping draught potion vanished just before Ernie started the mid-point wand waving, losing ten points each for “deliberate carelessness” as added insult. Then Terry Boot and Peter Gripps made it until five minutes before the end of their hour of low-flame simmering before they were similarly treated. 

After that most of them would have been better off never even starting.

Dudley kept his head down and weathered the usual storm of sneers and taunting with clenched fists, praying that Anthony Goldstein’s usual measured precision would save them from losing all of their own work.

(It did not. The four valerian sprigs of the third to last step went in before they also lost their work and were also banished to back of the room to scrub cauldrons by hand, less fifteen house points each).

* * *

“What is his _problem!?”_ Hannah growled, roughly scrubbing at her tear laden eyes. By the end of the lesson, only Ravenclaws Sparks and Xiāo had had any potion left to hand in for marking. The entire class was upset, angry and frustrated.

“I’m gonna write to my parents about sending a letter of complaint to Dumbledore and the school board,” Ernie huffed angrily. “Not to sound like Malfoy, but my father will _definitely_ be hearing about this.” 

“Did you notice he was limping?” Benji mumbled quietly, his small body still tense from being yelled at. 

“Looked like he’d been bitten,” Justin nodded with a miserable sigh.

“Wait? _Bitten?”_ Hannah asked with a sudden alertness. “You mean like… three-headed dog bitten?”

“Oh merlin no,” Ernie groaned. “Not the dog again.”

“Yeah, exactly like that now I think about it,” Justin pulled a face. “Do you think he… you know, when the troll was…?”

“But we were _on_ the third floor,” Dudley pointed out.

“We came down from the fourth floor after everyone else had already been sent back to their dorms though,” Justin pondered as they finally left got to the dungeons exit and began to climb out into the entrance hall. “Snape had plenty of time to come up and go in there before we appeared.”

(They all carefully ignored the house point hourglasses as they passed them, not wanting to dwell on how both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had lost almost fifty points each in the last hour.)

“We really need to work out what’s under that trapdoor,” Benji sighed as they trudged over to the entrance of the Great Hall where the Gryffindors and Tim were already waiting for them. 

“That bad huh?” Harry winced as he looked at all their faces.

“It’s a miracle our hourglass isn’t back to zero,” Hannah mumbled glumly. “Snape was awful.”

“Do you think he’ll have cheered up by this afternoon?” Neville asked with a terrified look. 

“Doubt it,” Ernie shook his head. “He’s got a big bite mark on his leg and he’s limping.”

“Limping!?” Hermione gasped as she clutched her overflowing book bag to her chest. “From a _bite!?_ You don’t mean…?”

“Yeah, it’s Cerberus teeth shaped,” Justin grimaced. “Saw it clear as day.”

“Well as clear as dungeon-light anyway,” Hannah huffed. “Honestly, would it kill him to whitewash the walls and put some more sconces up?”

“Maybe I should tell my dad about it?” Tim suggested quietly. 

“Dumbledore must know its there,” Hermione shook her head quickly. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have told us all the third floor corridor is closed off at the start of the year. I just don’t know why Snape would-? Unless he’s trying to steal whatever is under there?”

“We can try and work it out at lunch I guess,” Harry sighed tiredly. “Come on, we better get to our classes.”

* * *

But by the end of the day, they still had no further ideas about what might be under the Trapdoor or why Snape might want to steal it. 

They’d spent a little time after they’d finished their homework looking for more information on Cerberuses without success, and then tried brainstorming possible things that Dumbledore might hide in a school. But they didn’t get anywhere and soon the conversation switched to the impending Quidditch match. 

Ron and Benji were about bouncing out of their seats with glee, while Harry looked like one of the ghosts had drifted through him. Dudley didn’t know what to think, but if McGonagall had gotten the first year rule bent for Harry, his cousin must be good enough – McGonagall would never choose to put him in _actual_ danger after all. 

Right?

* * *

Saturday dawned with perfect flying weather. There was a chill in the air due to it being November and the Scottish Highlands, but the sky was clear and the sun shining. 

Almost the whole school trailed their way down to the stadium after breakfast, red and gold banners and scarves waving back and forth, patches of green and silver occasionally breaking up the sea of Gryffindor support. 

“Are you sure it’s okay if I sit with you?” Tim mumbled nervously as they approached the back of one of the stands. 

“It’s only a school sports game,” Dudley grinned at him. “Besides, Rian is one of the Slytherin chasers.”

“Go Slytherdor!” Benji cheered, jumping up and down with a red flag in one hand and a green one in the other. 

“See, it’s fine!” 

“If you’re sure…” Tim trailed off, still looking worried. Dudley just rolled his eyes fondly and gestured for him to proceed up the stairs before him. 

Soon enough they were all seated, a small sea of first year Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs with green-clad Tim protectively in the centre. Hermione and Dean unrolled a giant _Go Potter_ banner they’d made out of a set of Ron’s bed sheets that Scabbers had semi-shredded, while Dudley and Benji pulled out their own smaller _Go O’Claw_ sign. 

Within ten minutes, the doors to the two changing rooms swung open and both teams jogged out to the crowd’s cheering. 

The two teams spread out, red on the side closer to the castle, green facing them. The two Captains shook hands tensely before running off to get into their own positions.

The first whistle blew.

Dudley yelled ecstatically along with everyone else as the players all slowly rose slowly into the air to mirror their previous ground positions, steady on their brooms. The air was thick with anticipation.

Madam Hooch placed her whistle back to her lips. 

She held the quaffle up-

And threw it with wand-enhanced speed straight up into the air. 

As soon as it reached it peak and began to fall-

Another long whistle blast and the teams burst into motion. 

“Oh my _god!”_ Dudley breathed in sheer exhilaration, his eyes having no idea where to look. There was no wonder wixen didn’t give a toss about football; it could never match up to the sheer mind boggling speed and energy made possible by the air-borne nature of Quidditch. 

Everywhere he glanced there were more players zooming not just back and forth, but up and down. Spiralling around each other, ducking and diving, rolling and pitching and spinning. The quaffle was thrown all around so fast that it some times wasn’t clear who had hold out it. Bludgers zipped back and forth in sweeping lazy arcs only to suddenly dart inwards with great speed, the air visibly humming with their malicious intent. 

Beaters weaved in and out of the chaos of chasers, their bats striking hard and with focus. The two keepers hovered in front of their golden rings, shouting to direct their teams as they watched, throwing themselves forward to intercept the quaffle whenever it came to close.

And above it all, the two seekers danced. Eyes keen and searching, brooms swooping and diving.

Dudley was breathless with amazement and suddenly he knew, that one day he too would be giving his all just for even a _chance_ to be up their on a broom dressed in yellow with the wind in his hair.

(Preferably with a bat in hand)

* * *

Points were racking up for both teams and tension was rising when it happened. 

One minute Harry had been rolling easily under a bludger as he slowly flew loops above the other players and the next he was clearly clinging on to his broom for dear life.   
“Harry!” Dudley yelled as he stood up and stared up in horror at his cousin’s jerking nimbus. 

“What-?” Ron started, before he too looked up and noticed the problem. “Merlin’s balls! Hermione look!”

The tone of the crowd’s cheering as they all stood helplessly as the broom bucked and twitched. Professors’ hands rose to their mouths as they gasped in alarm, wands appearing from their sleeves almost as a wave.

Dudley glanced down for a moment just in time to notice McGonagall bend down and whisper in Lee Jordan’s ear. The third year Gryffindor commentator nodded with alarmed eyes and immediately started repeatedly calling an _interference timeout._ Within seconds, Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle long and loud again, and summoning the quaffle with a rapid flick of her wand. 

The rest of the players ground to a halt with confused looks that quickly turned to shock as they noticed Harry’s predicament. 

“Surely someone will catch him if he falls?” Benji stammered as he stood on the bench so he could see over everyone else’s heads. “And- and- this is a student pitch, there’s got to be a cushioning charm already built into the pitch base right!?” 

“Why isn’t someone already pulling him to safety?” Justin gabbled as the Weasley twins circled under Harry, Flint audibly yelling angrily at two of his players that were pointing at snickering.

“The whole pitch is surrounded by quidditch wards,” Ron blurted out. “All pitches are, to stop spectators hexing or cursing the players.”

“Well clearly they’re not working!” Justin shrieked back indignantly.

“Guys!” Hermione cut across them all, her finger pointing. “Look! Snape is muttering and staring at Harry!”

Dudley dragged his eyes back down to the staff stand again, and sure enough…

“He’s maintaining eye contact and repeating himself on a loop!” Hermione continued. “That’s how you control a prolonged curse!”

“We have to stop him!” Tim suddenly growled, grabbing Hermione and pushing his way through them all towards the steps. “I’ve got an idea!”

* * *

Dudley had no idea what Tim and Hermione did, but suddenly Snape was flailing everywhere and Harry’s broom stopped jerking uncontrollably. Just in time too; Harry had been hanging on by just the one hand by that point.

With a dexterity that unexpectedly filled Dudley with envy, Harry then swung his legs back over his broom and twisted to throw Madam Hooch a double thumbs up. The flying instructor and referee glanced up to the professor’s stand and Dudley followed her gaze up to see Dumbledore and McGonagall exchange a long glance and then nod at each other. 

Dumbledore nodded back to Madam Hooch and she tossed the quaffle again.

“They can’t seriously be continuing?” Justin scoffed as the whistle blew on the balls down arc. “Harry could have died!”

“Apparently they are!” Dudley shrugged as the players began to pick up speed again.

* * *

And then of course his crazy cousin won the match for Gryffindor.

By _swallowing the snitch whole._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work exploded into actual activity this last week. We shall see how the coming week goes, but there's a fair chance it will be next weekend before I post again :)

**Author's Note:**

> *Laughs in too many wips*
> 
> I'm Ed. Come scream at me: [Tumblr](https://insane-sociopath.tumblr.com)


End file.
